


If He Be Worthy

by jadedhavok



Series: The Once and Future Potter [1]
Category: Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dumbledore Bashing, GFY, Gen, I DO NOT LIKE RON I AM WARNING YOU RIGHT NOW I AM NOT NICE TO HIM, Independent Harry, Lord Harry, No pairing - Freeform, Powerful Harry, Ron Weasley Bashing, Weasley Bashing, harry is the reincarnation of arthur pendragon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 09:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 47,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3972649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedhavok/pseuds/jadedhavok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry summons The Sword of Gryffindor in the Chamber of Secrets, pulls it from the Sorting Hat, and uses it to slay a Basilisk in defense of Hogwarts without realizing that once upon a time The Sword of Gryffindor had another name... Excalibur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Eternal Man

**Author's Note:**

> Let me take a moment to thank my betas for their hard work. I have a terrible, terrible knack for switching tenses, sometimes in the middle of sentences. Thank you BatSpit, djaddict, and pyrofrizzchick. Y'all are awesome! Any mistakes that linger are entirely my fault. Please, don't bother pointing them out because I'm not going to bother with further editing.
> 
> Also, this work was inspired by Keira Marcos' "Pendragon Legacy". Her Original Character Hiro Ito makes a few appearances, and I use him with her permission. I hope I make you proud, Keira.
> 
> Finally, to all the minions: I couldn't be doing this without you. Your support keeps me on track and your encouragement feeds the bunnies. I love and appreciate every one of you.

Harry woke instantly, sitting bolt-right up in bed and reaching for a wand that he didn’t have.  It was locked away in the cupboard under the stairs, with his school trunk.  Harry took several deep breaths through his mouth, trying to calm his panic.  There was a man by the window with his back to Harry, one finger tracing the bars that Uncle Vernon had re-installed.

“Relax,” the man told him.  His voice was deep and accented strangely.  “I’m not here to hurt you, Harry Potter.  I’m here to help you.”

Harry’s hands clutched at his thin blanket.  “Who are you?”

“I have a lot of names.  I can’t even remember them all, but there is one you’ll know me by.  You can call me Merlin.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he shifted on his bed, swinging his feet over the side and leaning forward.  He was intrigued and excited, and his curiosity was starting to override his fear.  “Like, _the_ Merlin? Merlin’s pants Merlin?”

The man turned and Harry got his first real look at him.  He’s not at all what Harry had pictured when he’d been told stories about Merlin.  For one, Harry was relatively sure that Merlin was supposed to be dead.  For another, if he _weren’t_ dead, Harry would have thought he would have been old, with long white hair and a long beard. Like Dumbledore, except even older and wiser, but definitely wearing purple robes and a big pointy hat like Dumbledore.

Instead, the man looked to be in his early thirties.  He was tall and lanky, his hands long-fingered and bony.  He had the brightest blue eyes Harry had ever seen; they were practically glowing in the moonlight.  He had a smattering of facial hair, little more than stubble, that was patchy in places and his big ears were hardly covered by his mop of black, curly hair.

“You don’t look like Merlin.” Harry said doubtfully.

“I suppose this would be better?” The man cocked his head and his hair started to grow.  Facial hair sprouted from his cheeks and chin.  The hair grew and grew, going from black to dark gray to silver before it finally stopped.  The man’s face wrinkled and his hands got spots.  Now he did look like Dumbledore, just minus the half-moon spectacles and purple robe.  The man raised a bushy white eyebrow at Harry’s slack jaw and wide eyes.

“Okay. Say I believe you then, and you are Merlin.” Harry said and the man nodded, his appearance returning to normal.  “Why are you _here_? In my bedroom. At,” Harry looked down at his watch, “Blimey, it’s three AM!”

“I wanted to be here sooner. It took me a while to find you.  Dumbledore has you well hidden; it’s impressive.  As to why I am here… You called _Excalibur_ to you, Harry.  Do you have any idea what that means?”

“Er,” Harry frowned. “The sword in the Chamber? Dumbledore called it the Sword of Gryffindor.”

“Yes, yes. It has many names, depending on its wielder.  Its _first_ wielder called it Excalibur.  Godric Gryffindor kept the knowledge that he was the grandson of Arthur Pendragon very close to his chest.  There were players at the time that wanted to see that line killed off, despite my best efforts.”

“ _Your_ efforts?  You really are Merlin!”

Merlin gave him a very unimpressed look. “I know it’s late, but do keep up, Harry. I thought we’d _established_ that I am, in fact, really Merlin.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Harry defended himself, “I didn’t even know you were still alive.  You’re, like. A _thousand_ years old.”

“I’m actually over two thousand.  I was born, along with others, just before the new age.  I was one of seven.  Witches and wizards lived longer than, anyway.  Listen, now, this is important.  Lady Magic came to me, when I was just around five hundred, and told me that I needed to find a boy and he would become the first king of Avalon, the magical realm.  I was to teach him how to access the innate magic that existed in this realm, and seek out others Lady Magi deemed worthy enough to teach this access to as well.”

“Who taught you magic?” Harry asked curiously. “It doesn’t say in the books.”

“No one.  I’m a child of pure wild magic, Harry. I was born to Lady Magic herself.  That’s how the first of us were made, the first witches and wizards.  Lady Magic chose a vessel and poured herself into the vessel, and created seven children.”

“Who were the others?”

“It’s not important.  They’ve all chosen to return to Lady Magic.  They died.  I’m the only one that is left.  Please, stop interrupting.  This is a long story even without interruptions.”

“Sorry.”

“I found Arthur, along with his sister Morgana.  I took them under my wing and began to teach them how to access and control their magic.  I found others, and taught them, as well, and then they went out and found others to teach, and so on.  Soon we had our own realm. We had Avalon, and we had our king in Arthur.  Lady Magic herself rose from the water and gave him Excalibur as proof of his divine right to rule, and all that witnessed understood and swore fealty to Arthur.  But, not everyone witnessed the event and many thought we were lying.  There was dissention, and a war broke out.  It was horrible.  Half of the realm was killed before it was done, and Arthur with them.  He had children, seven boys, and his enemies targeted them as well.  I was able to save one, just one.”

Merlin stopped talking, his eyes closed and head bowed.  His grief was a tangible thing in the room, a sadness that welled up in Harry’s chest until it ached.  Merlin shook his head, and the feeling dissipated.

“I’m sorry.  I try to keep a reign on it.  I was able to save one boy, Thomas.  Lady Magic was furious that her chosen had been killed.  She tore the magic away from those responsible and swore that neither their children, nor their children’s children, nor any to ever come from their line, would ever be able to touch magic again.  We called them Muggles, for they had stolen from us our king and Magic had been in turn stolen from them.”

Merlin paused and looked at Harry.  “Do you know what they call Arthur Pendragon?”

“Er?” Harry tried, but couldn’t think of anything.  They hadn’t talked much about Arthur and his knights in his muggle primary school, and there hadn’t been anything about them in Hogwarts yet either.  “No?”

“They call him the Once and Future King.  Lady Magic came to me, again, with a mission.  I was to keep Arthur’s son safe, to protect Arthur’s line.  She told me that one day, a child would be born to his line that would take the throne again.  I thought perhaps it would be Godric, who could touch and wield Arthur’s sword when Thom could not, but Godric had no interest in ruling and Lady Magic never appeared to him.  I have waited a very, very long time for the King to return.”

Harry watched Merlin for a long minute after he fell silent.  They sat there, staring expectantly at one another, until Harry broke the silence. “That’s… that’s a nice story, but you still haven’t explained why you’re here?”

Merlin sighed. “Harry Potter, you _summoned_ Excalibur, the divine proof of King Arthur Pendragon’s right to rule, to you at the age of twelve and used it to kill a beast in the defense of other magicals and you don’t understand why I have come?”

“Hang on,” Harry stood up from his bed and pushed his hair out of his eyes.  “You can’t mean… You can’t think that _I’m_ this future king?”

“You, Harry Potter, son of James Potter, son of Charlus Potter, are the last Potter.  The very last one.  You are the very last living descendent of Hadrian Potter, who married Cadmia Peverell, daughter of Castor Peverell, son of Ignotus Peverell, son of Atticus Peverell, who married Isadora Gryffindor, the only child of Godric Gryffindor, son of Thom Gryffindor, born Thomas Pendragon, son of Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King of Avalon.  You are the living embodiment of the King of Avalon and I’m here to prepare you for your destiny.”

“I already have a destiny.” Harry helpfully pointed out.   “I have to kill a Dark Lord.  And, really, that’s enough destiny for one person, don’t you think?”

Merlin just looked at him, so Harry tried again.

“I don’t _want_ to be King of Avalon.”

“I’ve learned that the best Kings are always the ones that would rather not be King at all.”

Harry glared.  It was an impressive scowl, but Merlin didn’t seem to notice.

“Speaking of your other destiny, however,” Merlin moved and sat down on Harry’s bed.  It was surreal.   _Merlin_ was sitting on Harry’s bed. Cot. Whatever.  “I owe you an apology.”

“What for?”

“Lady Magic tasked me with protecting Arthur’s line.  I got tired, and distracted.  I thought that you were protected enough.  As a child of Peverell, you should have had the Deathly Hallows to protect you.  You should have had more than enough protections.  Except, somehow, Charlus Potter was killed before you were ever born, when I should have been there to protect him.  And James… I should have been there that night.  Prophecy or no, that twit Voldemort wouldn’t have killed your parents had I done my job.  I’m surprised that the Lady hasn’t taken my magic from me, for letting myself forget my purpose.  I got lazy, and you paid the price for it.”

Harry thought carefully, choosing his words.  “I don’t think you are at fault.  It wasn’t your fault Arthur died, either, or that his son had to grow up without a dad.”

Merlin looked at him. “Of course it was.”

Harry frowned. “Did you kill him? No. No you didn’t.”

“I didn’t protect him, either.”

“Hermione’s right,” Harry said. “Hero complexes are _really_ annoying.”

“You’re really annoying.” Merlin muttered, sounding very much like a teenager rather than a thousand plus year old entity.  “Come on, get up.  We’re leaving.”

“Leaving? To go where?”

“I’m taking you back to my home.  There is _much_ you need to learn, both to defeat Voldemort and to become King.”

“Again, I don’t want to become King.”

“I don’t think Magic will give you much choice, Harry.  If you are her chosen king, there isn’t much you can do about it.  Arthur didn’t want to be king, either.  He was a lot like you.  He came from a poor family.  When I met him, he was dressed in rags and hadn’t eaten in days.  Do you know what a serf is?”

Harry’s nose wrinkled. “It’s like a slave?”

“Yes, sort of.  It’s a person that lives on a Lord’s land.  In exchange for taking care of the land, the Lord is supposed to provide  his serfs with food, housing, and care.  The Lord Arthur lived under was a cruel, greedy man.  Arthur thought that being a king meant to be like that man.  Eventually, he realized that being king meant making sure his people never had to suffer like he had under his Lord.  It meant making sure that his people were safe, well-fed, healthy, and happy.  Arthur was a good king.  You’ll be a good king, too.”

Harry still didn’t look too enthused by the idea.

“This isn’t something that will happen for you today, Harry.  You aren’t going to become King tomorrow, or next month, or next year.  You can’t claim the inheritance fully in front of the Goblins until your seventeenth birthday.  I just want to prepare you, for what is to come.”

Harry sighed. “Okay.  I’ll come with you.  What about Hogwarts?”

“I will return you to Hogwarts on September 1st.  You will spend your breaks with me.  I will be staying at the school to watch over you.”

“I’m not sure Dumbledore will like that.”

“He won’t have a choice.  You are the future Earl of Gryffindor, and technically that means you own Hogwarts.”

“I _own_ Hogwarts?!”

“In a way.  You aren’t of age, so you can’t claim your title yet.  I’ll talk to the Goblins about working as your Regent until you come of age.  We can discuss it later.  Where are your things?”

“Downstairs.  My aunt and uncle don’t like magic.”

“I know. The wards have told me everything.  Your mother is… livid with your aunt.  The wards are almost sentient, filled with her love for you.  I had to talk with them for several hours before she would let me past to talk to you.”

“My mother is…. Inside the wards?”

“She left an impression.  It isn’t quite a full awareness.  Don’t worry, I’ll harvest the wards and take them with us.  She explicitly told me that I wasn’t allowed to take you from here without her.”

“So we’re going to your home?  Where is that?”

“Somewhere more familiar than you would expect.” Merlin said cryptically.  Harry glared at him and he laughed.  “You will like it there, I promise.  You will be well-fed, and I will never harm you.  We will get you healthy again, and then I will start training you.”

“How will we get there?”

“Let’s get your things, and I will harvest the wards.  And then we will go.”

“What about Hedwig?”

“Let her out the window.  She’ll find us.”

Harry did as Merlin instructed and then tucked the empty cage under his arm before following Merlin out of his bedroom.  Together they went silently downstairs, where Merlin unlocked the cupboard under the stairs.  He didn’t have a wand, Harry noted, but his eyes turned gold when he spoke the spell.  They got Harry’s trunk, and Harry quickly dug out his wand, and then Merlin cocked his head.  He walked for a few minutes, before kneeling in the middle of the den.  He plunged his hand into the floorboards, passing _through_ them as if they weren’t there, and pulled out a squirming, wiggling ball of light.  It was white and emitted sparks of gold and red.  It was very, very bright and painful to look at, but Harry found himself staring anyway.  He could hear a lullaby, a woman singing softly, in his head and it made his heart swell.

“Mum.”

“Yes.  She must have been an incredible witch.” Merlin held the hand that wasn’t holding the writhing light out to Harry. “Time to go.”

Harry took his hand and they disappeared, silently, as if they’d never been there at all.

 

 

Harry stumbled twice when they reappeared, and would have fallen over if Merlin hadn’t caught and steadied him.  His stomach rolled and he gagged violently.

“Steady.” Merlin advised, “Just breathe.  Deep breaths, in and out. That’s it.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry groaned, “What was _that_?”

“Apparition.  It isn’t my preferred method of travel by any means.”

Merlin gently escorted Harry over to an armchair and let him sink down into it.  When he finally felt less like dying, Harry looked around and realized they were in a comfortable sitting room.

“This is where you live?”

“Yes.  It’s been my home for… a very long time now.  I lose track of the years, honestly.  I’ll ask you not to go down into the lower floors; the family wards don’t extend down there and you won’t be as protected.”

The room was decorated in soft cream and deep burgundy.  There were two couches, six armchairs, and a coat rack by the door.  The main focus of the room was the enormous fireplace, big enough that Harry could have stepped inside, above with was a grand portrait of a man and woman dressed in finery, with a young toddler between them, sleeping curled up on the ground.  The man’s head turned and he looked down at Harry.

“So this is the Gryffindor Scion.”

“This is Harry,” Merlin nodded.  He prodded Harry forward.

“Er, hello.”

The woman smiled. “Well, isn’t he charming?”  Her smile faded away, though, and she frowned, “But so young.”

“Harry, this is Thom and Adelaide Gryffindor, and that would be their son Godric.”

Harry started and looked back up at the portrait.  “You’re Arthur Pendragon’s son?”

“And you the last of his line.  It is a terrible burden.  I was relieved to see it was not one that fell to my son.”

Adelaide’s fingers combed through Godric’s short, strawberry colored hair.  “It was my greatest fear.  Thom told me about his legacy before we wed, and he took my name to hide our son away.  I felt a stirring when I carried Godric and I knew he would do great things and be remembered throughout time.  I feared that the weight of the crown would fall to him.  He would have borne it with dignity and grace, but it is a burden no parent would wish for their child.”

“Do you truly believe he will be the one She chooses?”  Thom asked.  There was a heavy weight to his gaze, a troubled shadow, as he looked at Merlin.  Harry looked over his shoulder and saw the same shadow in Merlin’s eyes.

“He has to be.” Merlin finally said.

“Why? Why does it have to be me?  Why can’t I have children and, and it be one of them?” Harry asked.

Merlin sighed heavily. “Magic is leaving this realm.  Every year, fewer and fewer magicals are born.  At one time, Hogwarts was filled with over a thousand students each year, while in recent years that number has dwindled to fewer than half that.”

“A thousand?” Harry repeated.  “Hermione told me last year that there were only 268 students at Hogwarts.”

“There was once a time when that castle was _brimming_ with life and magic.  The last time I visited… the wards were crumbling.  The ghosts floated about, bored and aimless.  The magic of Hogwarts is deteriorating.  There are now only four magical communities in the United Kingdom, when at one time there was more than thirty.  I fear that magic will soon leave us completely.  Fifty years from now, we may see the day when an entire year has passed and not one child has been born with magic.  A hundred years from now, Hogwarts will sit empty and even those born with magic will find that it has gone from them.  If the Lady has not chosen you, Harry… It means she has made another choice.  The choice to give up on this realm.

“I have lived for a long time, Harry, and I am regarded as being one of a kind.  The great Merlin… But there  were once six others just like me.  After Arthur was killed, the Lady mourned.  She called the others back to her, one by one.  I have… I have begun to feel the call to return to her.  That is why I became lax in my regard to my duty, in my protection of your family.  I have been so tempted to return to her.”

“I don’t want this.” Harry whispered. “I don’t want this at all.”

“It isn’t fair,” Adelaide said suddenly.  She picked up her son and cuddled him close.  “He’s just a boy.  This is too much to put on him, Merlin.  Too much for a boy.”

“Arthur was just a boy,” Merlin said.  “I realize what I ask of you, Harry.  Already, the wizarding world has made such demands of you.  They call you their hero, their savior.  I understand that you’ve already given them so much, but that is the way of destiny.  Greatness falls the hardest on those that do not wish for it, because they are the ones that are most capable of being great.  It is a hard road you have ahead of you, but I promise you this.  You will not walk it alone.  They call you their hero, their savior, and one day they will call you king.  I _know_ it.  I knew it the moment I saw you.  I ask a lot of you, but I will stand by you and I will not see you fall.  I swear it.”

“There was a girl once.” Adelaide said, turning her eyes on Harry.  “She found a way into this house and was able to step past the wards and into this room.  She was young and frightened, and pressed a hand to her belly.  She was not far along, but I knew she carried a child.  I told you that I felt a stirring, and that I knew my son would do great things.  This woman, she knew.  A mother _always_ knows.  She asked me how I could stand to know my son was in such danger all the time, a danger I could not protect him from.  I told her that we can only love our children fiercely and protect them as best we can.  And then I told her the story of how Guinevere Pendragon died, and then I told her the story of how I died, and she understood.”

“Lily Potter came to you,” Merlin said slowly, “And you never told me.  You are why… I never knew why she chose _that_ ritual, but now I do.”

“What ritual?” Harry asked.

“You know that your mother died for you, but I doubt anyone has told you _why_.”

“I asked Dumbledore once, but I don’t think he really knew.”

Adelaide scoffed. “Dumbledore, ha! That man would never understand.  He talks about the power of _love_ but he doesn’t understand, not truly.  Let me tell you the story, as I told your mother thirteen years ago.  And then you will understand.”

“I will tell the story of my mother.” Thom interrupted.  “I’m the one that told you.”

“And _I’m_ the one that told you.” Merlin muttered, but Thom ignored him.

“On the night that Arthur Pendragon was killed, the three sons of Mordred slipped into Camelot.  Their mission was to kill the seven sons of Pendragon, so there could not be an heir.  They killed the eldest first.  He was fifteen.  They killed them all, one by one, in their sleep.  Finally, there was just one child left.”

“You.”

“Yes.  I was still just a baby, and I slept in a cradle beside my mother’s bed.  I would be the hardest to get to, so I was the last.  One of Mordred’s sons went to the bedroom of the King and Queen, while the other two set fire to the castle.  They used _Fiendfyre_ , a spell that no man has ever been able to hold again, because they wielded it with ease and they burnt the bodies of Arthur’s sons.  The son of Mordred that was tasked with killing the final child crept into the King and Queen’s room, but found the Queen already awake and protecting her child.  He told her to move aside, that he would spare her life.  She refused.  He killed her, and then turned his wand on me.”

“I was with Arthur when he died,” Merlin broke in.  “And I saw the smoke rising from Camelot.  I apparated into the castle and started looking for the children… The wing that the children slept in was entirely enveloped in fire, but the flames had not yet reached the royal suite.  I rushed in, and found Guin dead on the floor.  The son of Mordred, he was also dead, and Thom was crying.  He was on the floor, by his mother’s body, but he was unharmed.  I scooped him up, and I ran.”

“And that,” Adelaide said, “Is how Guinevere Pendragon died in defense of her son.  My story is quite the same.  I only know this story because I heard it from Godric when he was older.  There was a man, when Godric was ten, who discovered our secret.  He learned that Godric was the heir of Pendragon and he sought to kill him.  I stood between that man and my son and we dueled for hours.  I stood between them, wounded and hurting, and I would not give up and I would not stand down.  He killed me, and I died _willingly_.  I died _knowing_ that I was dying so that my child could live and I did so with _pleasure_.  He killed me, but when he turned his wand on my son he could not kill Godric.  He was killed instead.”

“So that’s what my mother did?” Harry asked.

“It appears to have become a tradition for the mothers of Pendragons to die for their sons.  I do not regret it and I would do so again and again, given the chance.”

“Why didn’t Voldemort die then? Shouldn’t he have died, like the guys that tried to kill Thom and Godric died??”

“I don’t know,” Merlin said. “No one really understands how the sacrifies Guin, Adelaide, and Lily made actually _worked_.  More than one person has willingly sacrificed themselves for another without earning the protection.  It's possible that it worked differently for her.”

“It takes more than a willingness to die.” Adelaide chided. “Guinevere called out to the Lady Magic for aid and then made her sacrifice.  Lady Magic choses how to use the power of sacrifice, not the witch.”

“That’s pure speculation.” Merlin objected. “Thom was too young to remember his mother’s death, and you don’t remember your own.  Godric knows that _you_ called out to Her but we have no way of knowing if Guin did, or if Lily did.  The truth is, Harry, that none of us really know how Pendragon heirs keep surviving death.”

“The Lady will always favor the Pendragon line.  You should teach the boy to trust in Her.” Adelaide advised.  “He may need Her help for what is to come, and he must be willing to reach out to Her.”

 

 

Merlin showed Harry into a bedroom.  It was decorated in red and gold and looked strikingly like the dorm he slept in at Hogwarts.  Merlin grinned at him.

“I thought you’d appreciate a little piece of home.”

“It’s great, thank you.”

Harry wandered over and sat down on the bed.  There was a chest of drawers and a wardrobe along one wall across from a large window, and a desk and bookshelf next to the door.  Harry’s trunk had been placed at the foot of the bed.  Harry rose from the bed to set up Hedwig’s perch and looked out the window as if to spot his owl, though he knew she was miles away.  The sun was just beginning to rise over the edge of mountains, and the new dawn cast pink and gold light over a lake.  Beside the lake, was-

“Hogwarts!”

Merlin laughed out right.  “Yes.  We’re in Hogsmeade.  Well, technically we’re on the outskirts of Hogsmeade.  The locals call this the _Shrieking Shack_.”

“I read about that.  Isn’t it supposed to be haunted?”

Merlin hummed. “Yes, but only because the locals have forgotten about me.  I built this house, you see.  It’s changed over the years.  When I first created it, I only had need for a small cottage.  In those days, the Forest covered all of this land.  This was my home, even before Camelot fell.  When I rescued Thom, this is where I  brought him.  It was safe.  Over the years, it grew and expanded.  At one time it housed not only Thom and Godric, but also Godric’s wife and the others he built Hogwarts with.  They stayed here until the construction on the Castle was complete.”

“Please tell me this isn’t the room Salazar Slytherin slept in.  There’s not a basilisk hidden somewhere, is there?”

Merlin laughed. “No, no basilisks.” Merlin sobered, “Salazar Slytherin was a good man, Harry.  His affinity for snakes was well-known, and he had a basilisk as a familiar.  I’m sure the one you were forced to kill was a hatchling of hers.  Salazar meant for Hogwarts to have a _protector_ and _you_ were the one meant to wake her.  Tom Riddle drove that poor beast to insanity.”

“I thought Salazar wanted to keep muggleborns out of Hogwarts?”

“That’s a misconception.  He wanted to keep the _muggle-son_ s out of Hogwarts, meaning the descendants of Mordred, the _muggles_ that the Lady took magic from.”

“Oh.” It made sense, Harry supposed.  He stared out the window at Hogwarts and felt a deep longing.  “Hogwarts was the first home I ever had.  Well, that I remember.”

“Your relatives treated you that poorly?”

Harry shrugged. “They didn’t want me. I was a burden to them and they hated me.”

“At first, the people of this world who could not touch magic were welcoming of the ones that could.  I taught children how to protect their family’s fields from weather and insects, how to cast tracking spells on their sheep and cattle, and how to cure ailments, and at first their families and friends were grateful.  But then they got jealous.  They wanted to learn how to do these things, and they came to me by the dozen to ask.  The ones I turned away got angry, and they started to hate.  Soon, we had no choice but to live apart.  I try not to hate them, those that cannot touch magic… But, it is hard.  I’ve witnessed so many magical lives lost to their jealousy and hate and greed.”

“The Dursleys have that in spades.  Jealousy, greed, hatred.  They hit me, used me for labor like I was a slave, starved me.  I didn’t know my name until I started school.  I never had a hug until Hermione hugged me in first year.  Ron was my very first friend.  Hogwarts changed everything for me.”

“You’ll never have to go back there, Harry, and one day your relatives will live to regret the way they treated you.  I promise you that.”

“I don’t care… I don’t need them to regret it. I just never want to see them again.”

“You’ll never have to.”  Merlin paused, and then ducked his head. “It’s best if you get some sleep.  It is still early.  When you wake up, we’ll have lunch and then I’ll give you a tour of this place.”

Harry nodded.  He _was_ tired, especially now that the excitement of stealing away from the Dursleys’ was wearing away.  Merlin closed the door behind him as he left, and Harry climbed into the bed.  He laid down and let out a pleased sigh.  He hadn’t felt safe and comfortable since leaving Hogwarts at the start of June, andfell asleep within minutes.

He slept like the dead, far better than he had in weeks.  When Harry finally woke, the sun was hanging high in the sky and Hedwig was settled on her perch, with her head tucked under a wing.  Harry stretched, walked across to her perch, and let his fingers trail over the feathers between her wing joints.  She raised her head to look at him, cooing softly, and he smiled.  He could feel the warmth of her affection for him as it settled beneath his sternum, and knew that she’d enjoyed her flight immensely.  She’d caught several mice and was feeling full and content, and happy to be _home_ at Hogwarts again.

Harry left so she could return to her rest, and wandered around the floor.  Merlin had referred to his room as the _heir’s room_ the night before.  It was located on the top floor of the house, just down from where Merlin himself slept.  This floor seemed to be composed mostly of bedrooms and baths.  Harry found the bath closest to his room with great relief, and did his business.  There didn’t seem to be a spare toothbrush to be found, much to Harry’s disappointment.  His teeth felt fuzzy.  He cocked his head down at his wand and wondered if he’d get away with the cleaning charms he usually used at Hogwarts, and decided to ask Merlin about it first thing.

The second floor was the one that Harry was more interested in.  He found Merlin in the common room they’d appeared in the night before.  He was situated in an armchair, reading a thick book.

“Oh, good. You’re awake. I was starting to think you’d sleep the entire day away.”

“Sorry?” Harry shrugged a shoulder, feeling a bit self-conscious.  The Dursleys always insisted he wake with the sun and had a list of chores for him to do to earn his keep. Perhaps Merlin had decided on a way to make Harry earn his keep here as well?  “Did you want me to do something?”

“No, no.  Sleep as long as you like. It’s good for you. Kids need sleep, especially teenagers.  Your core is slowly expanding as your body prepares for the magical maturation you will undergo when you turn seventeen.  It’s actually a rather exhausting process and magical children require quite a bit of food and sleep to keep up with the energy expense.”

“I… didn’t know that.  That magic took energy, I mean.”

“Magic is just another form of energy, actually.  The use of it is what is exhausting.”  Merlin sat up and closed his book, setting it atop of a rather teetering pile of books that seemed to serve as a table for him.  It looked so precarious that Harry wondered if magic was keeping the pile from toppling over.  “Speaking of, its after one so you must be starving.  We’ll eat, and then I believed I promised to show you around the house.”

“I poked around the top floor a bit,” Harry admitted.  “I was looking for the bathroom.  I found one, but it didn’t seem to have a toothbrush or any toiletries.  I left mine at the Dursleys.  I usually use spells for it while at Hogwarts.”

“You can use spells here, as well.  The Ministry isn’t capable of monitoring the magic that goes on in this house.  I made sure of that.”

“Okay, cool.  So, lunch?”

“Yes, the dining room is just down this way.”

The dining hall had a large round table situated in the middle of it.  Harry stared at it, and cleared his throat.  “Is this _the_ round table?”

“What? Oh,” Merlin smirked, “No, that one was destroyed long ago.  I guess I just got used to eating at round tables.”

“So is it like Hogwarts? Food magically appears when I sit down?” Harry asked, pulling out a chair and then sitting down.  The table sadly remained empty.

Merlin frowned at Harry. “You don’t know where the food at Hogwarts comes from?”

Harry shrugged. “I guess I just thought it was… there. Magically.”

“Conjured food doesn’t provide true substance.  It could _maybe_ support an animal, or even a muggle, but a magical person could eat all the conjured food they wanted and still starve.  No, the food at Hogwarts is prepared in the Hogwarts Kitchens, by the house-elves, and then sent to the Great Hall by means of very complicated spellwork.”

“Aren’t… aren’t house-elves, um.” Harry stopped, not sure how to ask.

“Aren’t they what?”

“Aren’t they… slaves?”

Merlin looked at him. “No. Wherever did you get that idea?”

“I met a house-elf last year, Dobby.  He was… His masters made him hurt himself, like ironing his hands or just hitting himself.  I helped free him at the end of the year, though.”

“You… you _freed_ a house-elf?  You severed the bond he had with his master?”

“No, Dobby did that part on his own.  I gave Mr. Malfoy my sock, hidden in this diary you see, and Mr. Malfoy gave the diary to Dobby.  Dobby opened the book to find the sock and since Mr. Malfoy had been the one to give him clothes, Dobby was free.”

“That’s not at all how the house-elf bonds work, Harry.  First, you can’t just give a house-elf clothes and have that be the end of their bond.  It takes _intent_ and there’s a specific magical phrase that must be said.  If your Dobby was able to sever his bond by that alone, then the magical bond between him and his master must have been fairly thin already.  I do hope he was able to create a new bond with a new family.”

“Why?  I mean, he wanted to be free and now he is.”

Merlin’s frown deepened.  “Your knowledge of the magical world is… well, it’s lacking.  Don’t they teach you these things at Hogwarts?”

Harry shook his head. “No.  I didn’t even know what a house-elf was until Dobby showed up in my bedroom last summer and tried to keep me from going to school.” Merlin raised his eyebrow and Harry shrugged, “It’s a long story.”

“Hmmm.  Well, house-elves are the only species of _elf_ left in this realm.  The other elves -and, indeed, most of the magical creatures with higher intelligence- all left with Lady Magic after the death of Arthur.  The retreated into another realm, for their own protection.  House-elves were unable to do so because they are so closely linked to the innate wild magic of this realm.  Except, magic started immediately leaving this realm when the Lady Magic left.  By the time Hogwarts was opened, house-elves were dying left and right because there wasn’t enough _wild_ magic to sustain them.  There was a brilliant wizard in Rome at the time that created a ritual to connect an elf to the family magic that is passed genetically through witches and wizards.  It allowed them to survive, and they _require_ one of those bonds to live.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “So Dobby’s going to die?”

“I’m sure he’s already found a family willing to bond with him.  House-elves are rare and coveted.  He might have even gone to the headmaster of Hogwarts to ask for sanctuary there.  The elves of Hogwarts are tied to the magic of the castle, rather than the headmaster himself, and are the most magically healthy elves in the UK.”

“Is there any way to be sure?  I like Dobby, and he saved my life.  I don’t want him to die.”

Merlin studied him for a moment. “There’s a ritual we can do to call the elf here, to speak with him.  I’ll take you to the ritual room in the basement after you eat. And, to answer your initial question: no, this won’t be quite like eating at Hogwarts, but very similar.  There has been a colony of brownies living in this house since I built it, and they’ve graciously agreed to feed me and keep this place clean in exchange for my magical protection and no small amount of milk and sugar.”

“Milk and sugar?”

“They’re a type of fairy, brownies, and all fairies _love_ milk and sugar.”

Merlin had barely finished speaking when a tiny door towards the ceiling swung open and a dozen, small, winged creatures flew out.  They each carried a plate of food and buzzed around quickly setting their burdens down.  Harry watched them curiously.  They reminded him of the cornish pixies he’d seen in Lockhart’s class last year, but different.  Around a foot-and-half tall, they were very skinny and looked like they were made of sticks, with tufts of leaves for hair and dark brown bark for skin.  Their eyes were large and green, taking up most of their small faces.  They didn’t appear to have noses at all, and only small holes for ears.  Their mouths were tiny little slits below their eyes, filled with sharp teeth that looked like thorns.  They were quick to retreat back to where they’d come from, flying off as soon as they had set down the plates.

“They’ll probably be a bit shy for a while.” Merlin admitted. “This generation hasn’t seen a human besides me before.  I’ve talked with them, though, and assured them you won’t hurt them.  They’ll get used to you.”

Lunch consisted of an array of fresh fruits, oatmeal, some fresh sausage links, and toast with honey.  It was very good and Harry was sure to voice his appreciation loudly, in the direction of the tiny brownie door.  Merlin stifled a laugh behind his hand, but Harry heard a flurry of wings from the wall so Harry was just pleased they’d heard him.

“Come on, then.  I’ll show you the ritual room.” Merlin beckoned.

At the stairwell down, Harry hesitated.  Merlin had told him the night before not to venture past the family wards.

“It’s okay this time.  I’m with you.  I will ask you not to venture past them without me, though.  There are ways into this house from the outside, if you know them.”

Past the stairs, the house turned into a completely different place.  Windows were boarded up and furniture was covered in dusty white sheets.  There were claw marks on one wall and a hole in another.  There was a long hallway with many doors, and Harry paused outside one.  He wasn’t sure why, but he reached out and touched the words that had been carved into the door.

_Prongs’ Room_

“I thought you might like to see it.” Merlin admitted.  “I would rather you see it now, than you venture down here curiously by yourself.”

“Who is Prongs?”

“Your dad.  It was a nickname his friends gave him at school.”

“My dad stayed here?”

“That’s a story for another day.  I’ll be glad to tell you, but it's rather convoluted and you wanted to see the ritual room.”

“Can I see inside?” Harry asked, already turning the handle to the room.  Merlin just nodded and Harry stepped inside.

Harry wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the room turned out to be empty.  There was evidence that someone had once stayed there -a mattress and bed-frame along one wall, some discarded papers on the floor- but there was nothing personal.  Harry sighed in disappointment.

“Look here.” Merlin said, and guided him over to the window.  Carved into the window seal, in the same writing as the door, was a set of initials: JHP+LLE.

“I don’t know their middle names.” Harry found himself saying, even as he reached out to touch his parents’ initials.

Merlin looked sad.  “James Henry Potter and Lily Lucille Evans.”

Harry nodded, grateful for the information.  After a moment, he let his hand drop and he turned away to go back into the hall.  “So this ritual to summon Dobby… it won’t hurt him will it?”

“No, not at all.”

The ritual room turned out to be a large stone room under the house.  Merlin showed Harry how to cleanse his body with a simple spell before stepping into the space.  There were runes drawn on the walls that were glowing faintly and a table along one wall that was clearly meant for potion brewing.  Merlin directed Harry to the center of the room, and conjured a cushion for him to sit on.

“I’m going to cast the spell.  Just relax.  I want you to picture your house-elf as clearly as you can in your mind and when I tell you, say his name in a clear, strong voice.  Try to make it as commanding as possible, and fill it with your _intent_ to see him.  Understand?”

Harry nodded and closed his eyes.  It was easy to bring forth a picture of Dobby: small, big-eared, bright-eyed.  His eyes were green, like Harry’s.  Harry pictured him in his dirty tea-towel, with bandages on his long fingers.  He remembered how Dobby had bowed to him, so low his nose had nearly touched the ground.

Distantly, Harry was aware that there was magic building up around him.  It crackled against his skin slightly, like static electricity.  Merlin called out, “Now, Harry!” and Harry shouted Dobby’s name.  There was a crack and Harry opened his eyes, and immediately scrambled to his feet to catch Dobby as the poor elf fell over.

Dobby looked _vastly_ different from the last time Harry had seen him.  He was skinny to the point of alarm, and his skin had turned grey.  He was cold to the touch, his lips dry, and his eyes had become completely colorless, staring blankly and without focus.  Harry lifted him gently into his lap and looked up at Merlin helplessly.

“Did I do this to him?”

“No,” Merlin said immediately.  “Dobby wanted away from his master.  We can fix this, Harry.  It’ll be okay.”

“How? What do I do?”

“I’m going to help you tie Dobby to your family magic.  You’re very powerful, and you’ll be able to support him even before your magical maturation.  First, though, we need to wake him.  He needs to consent to this.”

Harry nodded, “Yes, agreed.”

Merlin shifted so he could place his hands on Dobby.  His eyes glowed gold for a moment, and then the light seemed to move through Merlin and into Dobby.  The little elf’s eyes turned gold and he gave a small groan.

“Dobby?”

Dobby blinked several times, but finally managed to focus on Harry.  His lips quirked with an exhausted smile. “Harry Potter, sir.”

Harry smiled with relief. “Hello, Dobby.”

“Dobby,” Merlin said, drawing the elf’s attention. “You’re very ill.  Your magic is… leaving and you’ll soon die without a bond.”

“Free,” Dobby managed.  “Dobby be free thanks to Harry Potter.  Dobby glad to die, if it mean he be free from mean master.”

“Would you accept another bond?  To a different family?”

“Who be wanting Dobby? Dobby tricked old master. No one be wanting a _bad elf_.”

“I do, Dobby.” Harry said fiercely. “I want you.  I’d be glad to share my family magic with you.”

“Would you want that, Dobby?” Merlin asked. “Would you want a bond with the House of Potter?”

Dobby’s eyes whelmed with tears. “Yes. Yes, I be wanting that very much, sir.” He cleared his throat and when he spoke again, Harry recognized the ritual nature of his words.  His voice shook and he had to pause several times, but he managed the entire vow.

“I, Dobby, born to the service of the Family Malfoy, offer myself in service to the House of Potter.  Through Blood and Magic I bind myself to the Family Potter.  I swear to be loyal to the House of Potter, to honor the House of Potter, and to be faithful in my duty to the House of Potter.  The Potter Family will be my family, their enemies will be my enemies.  I swear on my life and magics that I will never by will, by force, by hand, or by magic cause harm to the House of Potter.  So mote it be.”

Harry stared, stunned, and looked at Merlin, who coached him softly.  “Repeat after me, Harry: I take thee, Dobby, into the House of Potter.  Through Blood and Magic I claim thee into my service and accept thy duty to my Family.”

Harry frowned, but began reciting.  “I take thee, Dobby, into the House of Potter.  Through Blood and Magic I claim thee into my service.”  Here, he paused, considered the small elf in his arms, and then decided not to follow the script that Merlin had provided.  It just didn’t seem fair.  “Your family will be my family, your friends my friends, your enemies my enemies.  I solemnly swear that I will never by will, by force, by hand, or by wand cause you harm for you are Family.”

Bright, golden light surrounded Harry and Dobby for several seconds.  When it faded away, the little elf was beaming.  He looked exactly as Harry remembered him, except without the bandages and rags.  Instead, he was dressed smartly in robes similar to what Harry wore at Hogwarts.

Dobby threw his arms around Harry’s neck and hugged him hard.  “Harry Potter, sir!  No wizard has _ever_ taken an elf into their Family.”

“Easy, Dobby. You’re choking me.” Harry laughed.  He gently unwound Dobby’s arms and set the elf on his feet.  “What do you mean? I thought that’s how it worked?”

“Not quite.” Merlin said.  He was smiling in bemusement.  “Wizards bond the elves to their Family magic in servitude.  It is not the same thing _at all_ as taking them into the Family as a whole.  Dobby is quite correct; I’ve never heard of an elf being taken into a wizarding family before.”

“Is… Is that bad?”

“There isn’t a soul on this planet I would allow to question you, Harry.  You’re the future King of Avalon and you can do whatever you want.  I will defend you against any threat, Harry.”

“Dobby will help.” Dobby promised.  “Master Harry be needing all the help he can get.  Trouble, that’s what you are, Master Harry. Nothing but trouble.”

Harry rubbed at the back of his head.  He couldn’t really argue with that.

“Come,” Merlin said. “We need to talk about your future, Harry.  For one, your magical education is lacking and that will need to be rectified _immediately_.  For another, there’s a matter of security.”

“Master Harry be needing a healer,” Dobby imputed.

“I’m a fair healer, but I never really managed to get the hang of the skill as much as my mentor would have liked.  There’s frankly only one healer on the planet that I would trust with Harry and I’m not sure I can convince him to come to Great Britain.  As for security… I know just the witch.”

 

 

Two weeks later, Harry came down to the dining hall for breakfast and found the table already occupied.  For the first time since Harry had arrived at the house, Merlin wasn’t alone either.  He was joined by two men and a woman, all of whom looked up at Harry as he came into the room. He shifted nervously.  He was suddenly keenly aware that he was still in his pajamas and hadn’t bothered to run a comb through his hair yet.

“Um, hi.”

Merlin snorted and directed Harry towards an empty chair.  “Good morning.  Don’t tell me I forgot to mention last night that our guests were due to arrive this morning?”

“You’re fired.” Harry told him quite seriously and Merlin just laughed.

“Sit. This is Master Hiro Ito, Lord George Daniels, and Miss. Aurora Bellerose.  They are all dear friends of mine.”

“I have heard much about you,” Hiro Ito said with an incline of his head, “It is good to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, sir.” Harry returned.  For some reason, it made the other man’s smile grow.

Master Ito sat back in his chair. “I almost thought the rumors of him being a snake speaker were exaggerated.  I detect no parselmagic in his aura at all.”

“He’s untrained, Hiro.” Merlin said. “Which is one of the reasons I asked you to come.”

“How did you know I was a parseltongue?” Harry asked curiously.

“I wasn’t speaking English when I greeted you.  I’m a snake speaker as well and greeted you in our language.”

“Oh. I… didn’t notice.”

“That is because you are untrained.  I will teach you.  I did not come all the way from Japan to twiddle my thumbs.”

“And we appreciate it, Hiro.  I wouldn’t have asked you to leave your home had I not considered it so important.”

“The King of Avalon should not be ignorant.  I agree with you, or I would not be here.” Ito eyed Harry for a moment and added, “I will also heal him.  It is good that you have removed him from his previous home.  The years he spent there have harmed him enough.”

“You’re a healer?” Harry asked, and the older man just inclined his head again.

“I imagine that Master Ito has forgotten more about the healing arts than most of us could ever hope to learn.” The other man at the table, Lord Daniels, said.  “It’s my understanding that you haven’t left your ancestral home in over two hundred years.”

“The passing of my last wife was difficult.” Master Ito agreed.  “Her decision to stop taking the elixir was disappointing, but I respected it.”

“Hiro has a blood stone.” Merlin explained, to a very confused Harry, “What many here in Britain call a _philosopher’s stone_.”

“There’s more than one?” Harry blurted out.

“There are at least twelve in existence that I know about.” Merlin admitted.  “I heard rumors about one at Hogwarts a few years ago… Did you encounter it?”

“Dumbledore said my magic destroyed it.  I didn’t mean to.” Harry frowned deeply and looked down at his hands. “I wrote a letter to his friend Nicholas Flamel to apologize, but I never got a response.  I think he and his wife must have… already passed away.”

“Nicholas Flamel lives,” Master Ito told him. “And his wife Perenelle.  Nicholas simply used the opportunity presented to him as a means of separating himself from Dumbledore.  They have moved to Rome.  Those of us that have drunk from the elixir keep in touch with one another.  Nicholas had already produced a second stone before he allowed the first to be taken by Dumbledore.”

Harry was surprised, “You know Headmaster Dumbledore?”

“We’ve never met, but I know of him.  I followed his career with interest when he first defeated the dark wizard known as Grindlewald, but never found him to be worth the journey to actually introduce myself.  Nicholas spoke fondly of him, but recently has become more… circumspect.”

“Albus Dumbledore is a fool,” the woman cut in sharply.  “I have interviewed with him twice in an attempt to gain a position at the school so that I may do my duty to the Gryffindor Estate, and he has turned me away both times.  I heard that more than one child was _petrified_ last year.  He should _welcome_ my willingness to join his staff.”

“Aurora is a very old friend of the family, Harry.  She is the many-times great-granddaughter of Sir Lancelot, one of Arthur’s trusted knights.  Her family is sworn to the protection of yours.” Merlin explained. “Magically, I mean.  Her family is _magically_ bound to yours.  She is here so that she can _finally_ do her duty to you.  She will be serving as your personal guard from now on.”

“I don’t _need_ a personal guard.”

“Perhaps not while you are here… But, outside of this house I will insist on it.  Your protection is _vital_.”

“It would be a relief to finally be able to do so.” Aurora said softly.  She reached out and touched Harry lightly on the arm.  “I have felt the burden of my duty within my magic since I was a girl.  Sitting here with you has made it so that burden is not a painful one.”

“I’ve thought about this a lot, Harry.  You are not anywhere _near_ where we need you to be to claim your throne, but we will get you there.  All of us.  Hiro is over a thousand years old, George was the first half-blood to _ever_ claim a lordship and he did it at seventeen, and Aurora has been a trained battle mage and world-class dueler since she was sixteen.  You are going to be a _great_ king, as long as you let us help you.”

“I already told you I don’t want to be king,” Harry reminded him. “But, I guess if you’re going to strong-arm me into it, I don’t have a choice.”

“Of course you have a choice.” Hiro Ito said.  He quieted Merlin with a glare when the other man tried to interrupt. “You cannot take the throne until you turn seventeen.  That is when you will make your choice, and, whatever that decision may be, we will ensure you are prepared for it.”

Merlin cleared his throat.  “Your birthday is tomorrow.”

Harry looked away. “I wasn’t sure if you knew or not.  You hadn’t said anything.”

“ _Everyone_ knows your birthday.  It’s a widely celebrated event, even in Paris.” Aurora said dryly.

“That’s where you’re from?” Harry asked. Her accent was pronounced, but didn’t seem quite French.

“I have lived in Paris for many years, but no.  I was born in the wizarding quarter of Rome.”

Harry perked up, intrigued. “You know Italian?”  There was an old cook book at the Dursleys that was entirely in Italian.  Harry had looked at the pictures often, but couldn’t read the recipes.  He’s not sure why his aunt even had it; perhaps just for appearances.

“Yes, but it is not my first language.  As per my family’s tradition, I was raised speaking Latin as my first language.  I’ve been told that it makes my accent… interesting.”

“I’ve told you before, Aurora, that what you speak is _not_ Latin.  It’s bastardized, at best.”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “Merlin is a purist, but has lost this argument before.  My _Avia_ has proven her ability to speak the _archaic_ Latin that Merlin prefers more than once, with a fluency that rivals his own.”

Merlin shot her a look, but let the subject drop.  “As I was saying: your birthday is tomorrow.  While we will certainly host a small party between us here, I also wish to take you to Gringotts.”

“The bank? Why?”

“To claim your inheritance.  You cannot fully step into your responsibilities, but I will be able to hold the regency in your place.  It is the proper thing to do, and it’s best that we get the goblins on your side as quickly as possible.”

“Can I invite my friends to my party?”

Merlin hesitated, and then shook his head. “No, I’m sorry.  I’m not willing to risk alerting Dumbledore to your presence here, especially not so close to the school.  I’m not sure how he would react.  You can send Hedwig out with letters, however.”

“I’d like that.  They’re probably worried.”

“We will Floo directly into Gringotts tomorrow.  I’ve arranged a meeting with the Horde’s Chieftain, to avoid you being spotted by anyone within or outside the bank.  These things are best done _privately_.”

“I will, of course, be on hand to defend your person if necessary.” Aurora spoke up.  She looked almost excited, as if she was hoping for the opportunity to do something.

“I would like to go with you, as well.  I will need to speak with the Chieftain about my current accounts, and I would like to sue the _muggles_ that Harry was placed in the care of on behalf of all the magical world.  Their mistreatment of him could have lost us our _king_ and I find that unacceptable.”

“Just try not to cut off anyone’s head, Hiro.” Merlin sighed.  “It makes the goblins even more bloodthirsty than usual.”

“I make no promises.”

   
  
  
NOTE: "Avia" is Latin for "grandmother".


	2. The Heir of Arthur Pendragon

Harry didn’t enjoy his second experience with Floo powder any more than he had his first, but he at least managed to make it out of the right fireplace.  He stepped out to find Merlin and Aurora already waiting for him, along with a goblin that Harry had never met before.  Merlin hurried him out of the fireplace, his eyes sparking briefly as he banished the ash from Harry’s robes, just in time for it to flare again as Hiro Ito arrived.

Merlin took one look at Master Ito and sighed.  “You just had to go with the battle robes, didn’t you?”

“It is appropriate.” Master Ito returned.

He wore a many-layered robe that was ornate and traditional, the outermost layer made of some sort of thick, protective hide that resembled the dragon-hide gloves Harry had for potion making.  His sleeves were elongated and nearly touched the ground, the inside shining with deep purple silk.  The robes had a wide, matching silk tie around the waist and an unusually shaped, rounded neck.  Harry thought he looked quite impressive.

Merlin shook his head and rolled his eyes, but he was smiling fondly.  He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and directed him over to the goblin.  “Harry, this is Stonegleam.  She is going to give you some instruction before we meet with Ragnarok.”

Stonegleam nodded sharply.  Harry never would have guessed she was female, except now that Merlin had pointed it out it seemed obvious.  She was slighter than any other goblin Harry had ever seen, and had a great deal more hair.

“You will not draw your wand in the presence of the Chieftain.  To do so is to declare war upon the goblin nation, and we will protect our Chieftain against any threat by wizardkind.”

Harry noticed she specified that they would defend him against any _wizard_ but not necessarily any _threat_.   He nodded to show he understood.

“You will not speak to the Chieftain until he has addressed you.  You will speak to him honestly and tell no lies.  You will not physically touch the Chieftain in any way.  You will not cast wandless magic around the Chieftain, unless it is to defend yourself or the Chieftain.  Your guard has been granted permission to cast magic _only_ in your defense.”

“Understood.” Merlin said, but Stonegleam wasn’t looking at him.

Harry swallowed hard. “I understand.”  
  


“Good.  The Chieftain will see you.” 

They followed her down a long hallway.  Merlin and Master Ito kept to either side of Harry, and Aurora followed them like a silent shadow.  They came to a large door that reminded Harry very much of Vault 713 from his first visit to Gringotts with Hagrid.  Stonegleam shot them a look, and Harry realized just how displeased she was to be taking them wherever it was they were going.  Still, she raised her hand and bit into one finger. She smeared the blood on the great stone door and, easy as that, the door opened.

“Ragnarok doesn’t enter the bank proper,” Merlin explained.  “He stays within the deep caverns of the bank that are connected to the goblin city that exists under London.  Only a goblin can open these doors.  It requires the _willing_ blood of a living goblin to open them.  Very, very few wizards are allowed this far.  As far as I know, Ragnarok hasn’t met with a human he didn’t already know since the last Horde Patron died… Your great-grandfather, Rell Potter.”

“The Chieftain is allowing this meeting _only_ because Rell Potter was our Patron and served us with great dignity and honor.” Stonegleam said.  “Unlike his dishonorable son.”

Merlin sighed, and shifted his hand to cover Harry’s mouth when he moved to ask a question.  Merlin shook his head and Harry nodded.  He trusted Merlin to explain later.

Past the magical door, they walked on, deeper and deeper into the ground.  Their footsteps echoed on the cut stone and Harry could hear the distant sound of rushing water, but other than that they walked in utter silence before finally they came to a great round chamber.  There was a golden throne along one wall, and the being Harry assumed to be Ragnarok, the Goblin Chieftain, sat upon it.  He was obviously very old, and looked weak.

“Hail Merlin, the Eternal Man, friend to the Horde,” the goblin said, his voice gravelly and dry.

“Hail Ragnarok.  I trust your hearth is warm, your vaults overflowing, and your sword slick with the blood of your enemies?”

Ragnarok laughed. “Aye.  It is good to see you, Eternal Man.  You’ve been gone from these halls for far too long.”

Merlin shrugged, “When you’ve seen as many years as I have, they all tend to blur together.  I… allowed myself to become discouraged and lost sight of many things.”

“Is this him, then? Have you finally found the child you’ve been waiting so many years for?”

“This is Harry.” Merlin pushed him forward slightly.

Harry coughed under the scrutiny and resisted the urge to wave.  Instead he tucked his hands into his pockets and met the old king’s eyes.  He didn’t flinch or look away as Ragnarok heaved himself to his feet and walked across the room to Harry.  He leaned heavily upon a staff in his left hand.  Harry hesitated a moment, but then sank down to his knees so that the goblin would not have to look up at him.  He didn’t miss the nods of approval from both Merlin and Master Ito, and smiled slightly.

“I was not alive when Arthur Pendragon died.” Ragnarok said to him.  “Our people live long lives, but not that long.  I have only ever heard stories… Much like you, I would assume.  According to the stories, Arthur Pendragon came to us goblins when we were still living like animals in caves and offered us an alliance if we stood with him in the war that was brewing between magicals.  Our kings at the time agreed, and swore loyalty, but when Arthur called for us to aid him in battle no goblin answered that call and the King was slain.  The Lady Magic’s grief and sorrow overwhelmed us and we vowed to make amends for what we had done, so we allowed ourselves to be indentured into the service of wizardkind.  Goblins pay their debts.”

“We learned in school about Gringotts creating the bank and the years of peace before the rebellions started.” Harry offered, trying to show he was following Ragnarok’s story.

“Yes.  We created the bank and promised to guard the wealth of Arthur’s Knights, and to help Arthur’s hidden heir gain back what was stolen from him.”

“You knew about Thom?” Harry asked, surprised.

“The goblins proved to be a great ally to me, after Arthur’s death.” Merlin said. His voice was carefully neutral and Harry wondered why.

“Merlin might be counted a friend to the Horde, but the Horde is no friend to him.  He’ll never forgive us for the death of his king, and we do not ask him to.”

“But it wasn’t your fault.” Harry protested. “It wasn’t your fault, or Merlin’s fault, that he died.  It was that man’s, Mordred’s.”

Ragnarok looked at Harry for a long time. “We had sworn him our allegiance, and when he called for us we didn’t come.  Mordred’s army was feeble.  The Horde would have crushed it easily.  We know it, and the Eternal Man knows it.”

“Finish the story, Ragnarok.” Merlin said, crossing his arms.

“Hmmph. Impatient, for an immortal.” Ragnarok commented and Merlin rolled his eyes.  “The goblins allowed ourselves to be indentured to wizardkind, but we hadn’t anticipated the… _greed_ of wizards.  We were slaves to them, nothing more than animals.  They took advantage of our grief and used rituals to bind our magic and distort our will so we _wanted_ to serve them as slaves.  It was our darkest time, during which we lost most of our history.”

“What did you do? How did you escape enslavement?  With the rebellions?”

“No.  We had no wish for rebellion, that came after.  A man named Hadrian Potter lead a full conclave of over one hundred wizards from around the world and _broke_ the magical chains that were binding us.  After we were freed, _then_ came the rebellions.”

“Hadrian Potter.” Harry repeated.

“I believe you were named after him.” Merlin said. “I don’t know why Dumbledore and the rest of the wizarding world _insists_ on forgetting that.”

Harry blinked slowly. “My name is Hadrian?”

Merlin’s head jerked around to look at Harry. “You didn’t know?”

Harry shook his head. “I didn’t know my name was _Harry_ until I started school.  My aunt and uncle always called me _freak_ or _boy_.”

“Your legal name is Hadrian James Alistair Potter, son of James Henry Potter.”

“Technically,” Ragnarok interrupted, “His name is Prince Hadrian James Alistair _Black_ Potter _Pendragon_ , Duke of Gryffindor and _Heir Apparent_ of Avalon.”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed. “That is not _official_ yet.”

“Good, because that is way too many names.” Harry muttered.

Merlin ignored him. “We’ve come to claim those titles.”

“Oh, come on. Seriously?” Harry complained. “I don’t want that many names.  It’ll never fit on a letterhead.”

Merlin continued to ignore him.  “Do you have access to the Potter family ring?”

“Yes. It returned to the Potter vaults upon the death of James Potter, _as you know_.”

“Can you get it without Harry?  We can’t take him into the bank proper. He can’t be seen right now.”

“I had someone fetch it this morning.  I knew what would come of this meeting.” Ragnarok said.  He turned and walked back to his throne, where he settled with a great sigh.  “Stonegleam, the box please.”

Stonegleam moved forward and held out a heavy ring-box.  Merlin took it from her and took a deep breath.  He cracked the box open and Harry’s eyes bulged slightly at the sight of the ring within.  It was large and heavy-looking, with a band of gold and a shining ruby at the center.  It was marked on one side with the Potter crest and on the other with the familiar Gryffindor lion.

“This ring was originally worn by Percival Potter, who was one of Arthur’s Knights and a Lord of the Order.  He passed it to his son and so forth, until it came to rest on the hand of Hadrian Potter’s only son Cassius.  At that point, the personal mark of Percival disappeared and was replaced with the Gryffindor lion that you see now.  Cassius was named the Earl of Gryffindor, the first to hold the title since Godric.”

“Why was he an earl if I’m apparently a duke?” Harry asked.

“You have a higher rank.” Merlin responded.  “Cassius was an Earl because he was never set to inherit the throne.  That is a _divine_ right unique to you, Harry.  It requires the approval of Lady Magic to ascend to the throne of Avalon.  Now be quiet and listen: Cassius became the Earl of Gryffindor because it was widely accepted that _magic_ had returned the title to his line by changing this ring.”

“You think it’s going to change again, when I put it on.”

“It’s… a possibility.”

“What do I have to do.  I mean, I’ve got to do something, right? I can’t just put it on.”

“No.  You need to make a vow first, and if the ring decides you are sincere and worthy it will allow you to put it on.”

“What happens if it _doesn’t_ think I’m sincere and worthy?”

“You lose your hand.” Ragnarok told him helpfully.  Harry frowned at the ring.

Merlin huffed. “Don’t worry, that’s never happened to a Potter.  In fact, the last Lord’s Ring to claim a hand was Slytherin’s when Corvinus Gaunt’s son tried to claim the title in 1789.”

“Not true.” Ragnarok objected, “The Black Family Ring claimed the hand of Walburga Black after Sirius Black was imprisoned.  She retreated into Grimmund Palace and died just two years later.”

Merlin glared. “Don’t tell him that.”

“Why not? He’s the Heir of the House of Black, Merlin.  You can’t ignore that.”

“Sirius Black betrayed the Potters and is the reason Harry doesn’t have living parents.  He hardly _needs_ to claim the title.  It’ll go to the next in line.”

“Who’s Sirius Black?” Harry asked.

Merlin took a deep breath and exhaled sharply through his nose.  “I will tell you the wretched awful story of Sirius Black when we are at home.  Now… the vow.  Repeat after me: I, Hadrian Potter, son of Lord James Potter, swear my loyalty and fealty to the House of Potter, to always act with honor and dignity in the name of the House of Potter, and to be faithful to my duty to the House of Potter as long as I shall live.  I swear on my life and magic that I will never by will, by force, by hand, or by magic cause harm to the House of Potter. So mote it be.”

Harry dutifully repeated the vow word by word and then reached for the ring. He hesitated just a moment and then, before he could talk himself out of it, snatched the ring from the box.  He slid it onto the ring finger on his wand hand, and watched as it resized itself to fit.  It settled against his skin, feeling slightly warm.

Harry looked up, “That’s it?”

Merlin didn’t answer him. He was staring intently at the ring on Harry’s hand, as were Ragnarok, Aurora, and Master Ito.

The warmth from the ring started to spread.  It raced up along Harry’s arm and his eyes shot down to stare at the ring as well.  Soon, the warmth had enveloped Harry entirely.  It pulsed slightly, like a heartbeat, and then eased away.  Harry rubbed at the ring and felt something odd under his thumb.  He pulled his hand away and stared.

On top of the ruby, something new had appeared.  Laid atop the stone was a golden dragon, curled up as if asleep.

“Well.” Master Ito said, leaning forward to examine the ring. “It looks like you’re going to have to get used to your new name, Prince Hadrian.”

Harry made a face. “Is it too late for me to change my mind?”

“He won’t be able to legally claim the throne until after his maturation.” Ragnarok said.

“I know.” Merlin sighed. “I’m already the Regent of Pendragon.  I will serve as Harry’s Regent for all of his estates, until he comes of age.”

“Because you’ve done so well with the Pendragon Estate.” Ragnarok scoffed.  “You’ve let this realm fall into _disgrac_ e and the idiots at the Ministry care only for their own greed.  Magical Britain is a backwards, archaic place.  We goblins have even considered making the French branch of Gringotts the _main_ branch.”

“I had my reasons for retreating from the world and choosing to hide Thomas Pendragon’s lineage.” Merlin argued.  “Who would you rather act as his Regent? His magical guardian? You realize who that is, don’t you?”

“No.” Ragnarok shook his head. “I would never willingly give Albus Dumbledore such power. He’d never let it go.  I may dislike it, but you _are_ the best choice for Regent… And, it will grant _you_ guardianship of the Prince.”

“As is my right! He’s a Pendragon, and Lady Magic _herself_ named me his guardian a thousand years ago.  He should never have been left in Dumbledore’s care, never.  That man left the future king of Avalon to be raised by _muggles_. Hateful, cruel muggles.  We’re lucky he’s alive!”

Ragnarok’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Harry. “Is this true?”

Harry shrugged. “I was raised by my aunt and uncle.  They’re muggles.”

“You should have had a caseworker.  Did anyone ever visit your home to ensure your good health?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Never. My aunt wouldn’t have allowed a magical person into the house.  She hates magic, and Uncle Vernon is… He blames everything that goes wrong in his life on magic.  If traffic is bad, it’s because there’s a wizard out there making it so.  And, if it’s magic’s fault, then ultimately it was _my_ fault as well.  Of course, I never knew _why_ I was getting punished.  Hagrid had to tell me I was a wizard on my eleventh birthday… The same day I came to Gringotts for the first time.”

“Hardly the first time,” Ragnarok disagreed. “Your parents brought you here _often_ as a babe.  James Potter was negotiating with us to be our Patron, before he went into hiding.” Ragnarok frowned, deeply. “I’ve not _personally_ been keeping track of the Potter accounts but _much_ has been taken out over the years to see to your care and wellbeing.  Have you truly seen none of it?”

Harry shook his head. “If my aunt and uncle received money for caring for me, they never told me.  They often said I was a _burden_ and that the cost of feeding and clothing me was more than I deserved.  They gave me one small meal a day, and my cousin’s hand-me-down clothes.  I slept in a cupboard under the stairs until I went to Hogwarts.”

Ragnarok’s thin lips pressed together so tightly they disappeared utterly.  He banged his staff on the floor, and the sound echoed through the cavern.  A second later, a familiar goblin appeared.

“Griphook, you’ve been overseeing the Potter accounts since the death of James Potter.”

“Since the death of his father Charlus, Chieftain.  James Potter chose me specifically.”

“Who has had access other than Harry Potter?”

“Only his magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore.  He has never been allowed access to the main Family vaults, and is only allowed to remove monies if they are to be spent directly on Harry Potter.”

“I want a full audit done on _all_ of Harry Potter’s accounts, starting from the moment Albus Dumbledore gained access.  I will _not_ have it be said that the Horde allowed anyone to steal from the Prince of Avalon.”

“It will be done, Chieftain.”

“See to it.”

Master Hiro Ito cleared his throat.  “I demand an audience with the goblin court.  I will see justice for the crimes done to Prince Hadrian.  His muggle relatives will _pay_ for what they nearly cost us.  Our king, and the future of our realm.”

Ragnarok grinned. It was not pleasant, and instead showed off several rows of sharp, jagged teeth.  “I’ve always liked you, Master Ito.  Did you bring your sword?”

“Of course.”

“Stonegleam, go and fetch me these muggles.  Master Ito has demanded justice and the goblin court will convene and decide if he will receive it or not.”

Harry’s mouth had dropped open and he rushed forward to grab Ito by the arm. “You’re going to kill them?”

“They will get what they deserve.”

“You can’t just kill them! That isn’t right.”

Hiro tilted his head to the side and regarded the boy who would one day be his king. “And what does Prince Hadrian of Avalon suggest instead?”

Harry took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.  “If they are found guilty, they should be imprisoned.  And, and someone should make sure Dudley gets help, so he doesn’t turn out like them.”

“They could have caused the death of _magic_ in this realm, for all of us.”

Harry glared. “But they didn’t because I’m not weak. I’m stronger than them.”

“Of course you are.” Ito replied.  “I will promise not to kill them.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank you.”

“You will not be allowed to remain.” Ragnarok told him firmly. “The goblin court is not a place for children.”

Merlin placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “We will see the Family Vaults and perhaps pick up the grimoires.  I believe Harry will find them fascinating.  Hiro, you’ll be back to home in time for Harry’s party?”

“I would not miss it.  His present arrived this morning.”

“You’ve only known me for two days.” Harry pointed out. “You shouldn’t have gotten me a present.”

“You will like it.” Hiro assured him, before Merlin directed Harry out of the chamber.

“Don’t argue with him, Harry.  Besides, you deserve whatever gifts you receive and more.”

 

 

Harry returned with Merlin and Aurora to the Shrieking Shack, his arms full of family grimoires.

After Merlin had mentioned them, Harry hadn’t been surprised by the Potter Grimoire, but he’d been given ones containing the histories of the Gryffindor, Peverell, and Black families, and two more that Griphook had said belonged to Lily Potter.  Harry was completely astounded to learn his mother _technically_ wasn’t muggleborn.  Her mother had been a squib, and Lily had inherited the Pevensie and Ravenclaw Estates from her witch grandmother.  Harry had clutched especially hard at the Pevensie Grimoire after he’d learned there was an entire chapter at the end dedicated to his mother.

Harry escaped to his bedroom, encouraged by Aurora to make himself scarce for a while, and set the books in a neat row along his desk.  He sat down and glared at the piece of parchment Merlin had left on the desk, detailing his lessons for the rest of the summer.  Harry had spent the last few weeks with Merlin sleeping, eating, and relaxing, but he supposed the arrival of the others signaled the end of Harry’s vacation.  His schedule for the rest of the summer started at six AM with meditation with Hiro Ito, and ended in time for dinner at six PM.  It looked exhaustive, and Merlin had already implied it would only get worse with the start of school in September.

Choosing to ignore the schedule for now, and enjoy his last day of freedom, Harry moved across his room to Hedwig’s perch.  She’d been gone earlier in the morning when Harry had left for Gringotts, so he fed her a treat.  She nipped at his fingertips and then pointed her beak towards the bed, where there was a small pile of letters and packages.  Harry grinned and settled down on his bed to open his presents.

Hermione had sent him a long letter about her trip to France, and a broom cleaning kit that was frankly fantastic.  There was a letter from Ron about his family’s trip to Egypt, which included a picture and article from the Daily Prophet about Arthur Weasley winning some kind of prize from the Ministry, and a sneak-a-scope which was supposed to spin and make noise when there was someone untrustworthy around.

There was a large package from Hagrid, and Harry set about opening what turned out to be a book that tried to _eat_ him.  Harry threw it across the room with a yowl when it caught his hand between its pages.  Less than a minute later, Aurora was bursting into his room with her wand drawn, eyes darting around looking for intruders or something.

The book charged at her, flopping its thick hairy cover.  She pursed her lips together and sent a curse at the thing, and it flopped over and laid still when the red jet hit it.  Aurora sent another spell its way, which wrapped it in thick rope.

“Who,” she asked, “Sent you the _Monster Book of Monsters_?”

“Um, Hagrid did.”

“ _Why_?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s Hagrid.”

There were several letters and small gifts from other people at school: Neville sent him a small devil’s snare, which Harry found hilarious and put under his bed to keep it from the sunlight; Dean Thomas sent him a subscription to _Quidditch Weekly_ and Seamus Finnegan sent him a collection of novelty jokes from Gambol and Japes; Oliver Wood sent him a new copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and a letter reminding him that Quidditch practice started bright and early, just as soon as classes resumed; and Angelina, Alicia, and Katie sent him a practice snitch with several settings that Harry spent a good ten minutes fiddling with.  The last letter was from Hogwarts and included his new supply list, which Harry handed over to Aurora.

“Hmm. It looks like someone is requiring the _Monster Book of Monsters_ this year.  You’ll want to look it over before school begins then.  A well-placed stunner will make it behave, or all you have to do is stroke it along the spine.  I need to show this to Merlin.  He’ll probably want to discuss your class schedule with the Deputy Headmistress.”

“More classes?” Harry asked.

“Private tutoring, at the very least.  Being king is a great responsibility.”

“I know,” Harry sighed.  “And I want to learn.  If I have to be king, I want to be a _good_ one.”

“You ready to come downstairs?” Aurora asked.  “Hiro isn’t back yet.”

“No, I want to write my friends first.  I’ll be down in a while.”

Aurora nodded, and let herself out.  Harry set about writing letters to everyone: quick notes to Neville and the others thanking them and letting them know he’d see them in September, longer letters to Hermione and Ron stating he’d escaped the Dursleys, was safe, and would write again when he had time.  He sent them all off with Hedwig and then called for Dobby.

Dobby appeared with a crack.  He was wearing a birthday hat that sat at a jaunty angle over one ear, and was beaming from ear-to-ear.

“Happy birthday!” he cried, before scrambling up onto the bed next to Harry.  “Is you ready to celebrate? I made cake.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fantastic,” Harry said.  “I actually wanted to see if you’d be willing to go to Diagon Alley for me and get my school things.  Also some new robes and whatever books Merlin thinks I might need.”

Dobby nodded. “I go to Mister Merlin and Master Ito.  They give me long list of books, I bet.”

“You should probably talk to Lord Daniels, too.” Harry said with a frown.  “I’ve got all sorts of lessons with him about _estate management_ and stuff.”

“Yes, Master Harry.”

“I’ve asked you not to call me that.  You aren’t my servant; you’re my _family_.”

“I know,” Dobby said and reached up absently to fix the hat on his head. “Habits be hard to break.  I got you a present.”

“Did you?” Harry grinned. “Give it, then.”

Dobby shook his head rapidly. “It be downstairs with the other presents.  And cake.”  Dobby looked at him pointedly.

“Okay, okay. I’m going downstairs. Let the birthday party commence.”

Dobby snatched Harry by the hand and _popped_ them both to the dining room.  Someone (Harry suspected Aurora) had decorated the room with several balloons and a large banner than said _Happy 13 th Birthday Harry! _There was a small pile of presents on the table, along with an enormous chocolate cake.  Merlin and Lord Daniels were both talking at the table, going over Harry’s supply list it looked like, and Aurora was directing the brownies into hanging more streamers.  The portrait of Thom, Adelaide, and Godric had been moved so they could enjoy the festivities, and Master Ito sat in a chair beneath them with a glass of wine.  An enormous snake was draped across his shoulders and wrapped twice around his waist.  It was at least as thick as Master Ito’s forearm, with scales so dark green they almost appeared black.

Dobby clapped his hands and several fireworks exploded over the table, effectively gathering everyone’s attention.  Harry was ushered into a chair, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Hiro’s snake.

“She’s a basilisk, isn’t she?” Harry asked.

Master Ito nodded. “I heard what you were forced to do to the basilisk that lived under the school.  Kiyohime has guarded my ancestral home since before I was born; she was hatched by my grandfather.  She has been a good brood mother, however, and I have many basilisks guarding my home, while Hogwarts has lost her protector.  I would like to give Kiyohime to the school, to replace what has been lost, and she has agreed.”

Harry frowned. “I don’t know that Headmaster Dumbledore would agree to that.”

“He doesn’t get a choice. _You_ own Hogwarts, remember?” Merlin pointed out.

“Kiyohime is here for another reason, as well.  She wanted to meet you.”

Harry’s eyes focused on the snake, and tried not to flinch when she lifted her head from Hiro Ito’s shoulder.  Her eyes were closed, which was a relief.  Her tongue flicked out several times to taste the air.

“ _You’re frightened_.”

“ _Yes._ ” Harry agreed.  He didn’t see the point in lying to a snake. “ _You’re much smaller than the last basilisk I met, however._ ”

“ _I was bred to be small.”_ Kiyohime told him. “ _I will protect the children of the school.  None will be harmed by me.”_

“ _I believe you._ ”

“ _You were bitten by my brethren.  I can taste the venom that lingers in you_.”

Harry was slightly alarmed, “ _There’s still venom in me? Is it hurting me?”_

“ _No, Prince Hadrian._ ” Hiro shook his head. _“It has been neutralized._ ”

“ _I wish to give you an egg.  If you are patient and careful, it may hatch.  Or it may not.”_ Kiyohime continued.  “ _Will you accept_?”

Harry hesitated only a moment. “ _Yes._ ”

“The box is on the table with the other presents.  Basilisks are powerful, and they are feared for a reason, but I have met no greater companions in my long life.  I had a dream, several months ago, of giving you this egg and it hatched in your hands.  Of all the eggs that Kiyohime has laid, only one has not hatched for me.  I believe that egg is meant for you, instead.”

As he spoke, Kiyohime steadily unwound herself from around Master Ito, and then slid across the floor to wind up Harry’s leg instead.  He was tense, for a moment, but forced himself to relax.  She kept most of her weight on the floor, but laid her head on Harry’s thigh.  He patted her head and then focused on the piece of cake Dobby set before him.

“Thanks, Dobby. It looks great.  Can I open the present from you first?”

Dobby beamed and fetched him a present wrapped in bright green paper.  Harry opened it with glee and then burst into laughter at the assortment of brightly colored, hand-knitted socks.  None of them matched.

“You made these?”

“Yes. Mix-and-match… Dobby very thankful for the sock yous be giving him, so Dobby gives back many socks.  Better socks.”

“Thanks, Dobby, they’re great.”

The next present was from Aurora.  Harry tore off the golden wrapping paper to find a long, thin box with Harry’s name etched into the top.

“It’s made of holly, like your wand.” She told him, sitting forward. “And the name is charmed to change as you see fit.  Go ahead, open it.”

Harry did so, revealing a scabbard.  He reached out and touched it lightly.

“For my sword.”

“Excalibur, yes.  I had the snake beneath the school harvested, and used the hide to make this.  It will also make several sets of war robes when you are older.  Merlin told me that the basilisk blood has fused with the blade. No other scabbard would be able to hold it.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, and meant it.  He held out a hand and pictured his sword.  It answered his call immediately, appearing in his hand silently.  He pulled the scabbard from the box, and slid the sword into it.

“You’ll be able to keep the sword in the box, when you aren’t wearing it.” Aurora said.  She hesitated and then asked, “Do you plan on renaming it?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.” Harry said honestly, putting the sword in the case and locking it.

The next present Harry grabbed turned out to be the basilisk egg from Hiro Ito.  The egg itself was warm in his hand, and about the size of his fist.  It was lime green and flecked with specks of yellow.  He looked it over, and then replaced it in the box Hiro had provided.

Next came a small, white oak box. Harry opened it to find a thick golden cuff inset with rubies, clearly intended for a man.  Adelaide moved in her portrait to kneel by the edge of the frame and speak to him.  “I had Merlin take it out of the Pendragon vaults.  I had this made for Godric when he was a small boy.  It has many qualities.  It stores up to six portkey locations and is linked with this portrait, so that I might always find you and advise you.  In times of great need, if you were hurt or rendered unconscious, it will bring you here.  No one will ever be able to remove it from you, though you can remove it at any time.  I ask you to wear it until you have a child to give it to, so that I may keep you safe.”

“Of course, Adelaide.  Thank you.” Harry slipped the cuff onto his left wrist, where it resized itself to fit.

Lord Daniels handed Harry the present from him, which turned out to be a leather journal with gold-leaf edges and the Potter crest on the front.

“While most families have grimoires that keep track of the history of the Family, many still keep private journals.  I use mine to record important events in my life, as a way of keeping track of my personal research, and as a record for the spells and potions I’ve invented or modified.  It becomes much more personal than the grimoires that are tethered directly to the family line.”

“Thank you, Lord Daniels.”

“Call me George, please.”

“Only if you call me Harry and _never_ Prince Hadrian.” Harry shot Master Ito a look.  The man seemed to be insisting on using Harry’s _proper_ title.

“Deal.” Daniels agreed.

Merlin stood up and rounded the table, and kneeled beside Harry. “I suppose that leaves just me.”

Harry looked up at him expectantly. “After everyone else, I’m going to have pretty high standards, so it better be amazing.”

“You’ll like it.” Merlin assured him.  He reached into his inner robe pocket and pulled out a flat, rectangular box.  “I had the goblins craft this.  I asked them for it the day after I brought you here, and was very pleased when it was completed before today.  I told you when we left your muggle residence that I would harvest the wards your mother left for you and put them to better use.  I’ve anchored them to this.”

Harry opened the box, and promptly sat it down on the table when his hands began to shake.  Inside, on a soft cushion, laid a large medallion on a chain.  Etched into the medallion was the face of Lily Potter.  Harry could feel the magic coming off the medallion now that the box was open; it felt exactly as the wards at Privet Drive had.  Warm, loving, affectionate, protective.  Harry wiped at his eyes, not wanting to cry in front of these people for fear of looking weak.

“Both the chain and medallion are crafted from mithril.  It’s goblin-made, like your sword.  It will never tarnish, or rust, and the magic will never fade.  You will be able to carry your mother’s love with you, always.”

“Thank you.” Harry whispered.  He couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, but that didn’t seem to matter.  Merlin pulled Harry out of his chair and into his arms, wrapping him in a tight hug.  Harry cried silently, his shoulders shaking, against Merlin’s neck for several minutes before he pulled away and gathered himself.

Merlin picked up the necklace and slid the chain over Harry’s neck.  Lily’s wards settled over Harry and he shuddered.  No one said anything to stop him when he stood up and quickly made his way out of the dining hall and hurried to his room.  Harry was glad; he wasn’t sure he was even capable of speaking.  He shut himself up in his room, laid down on the bed, and sobbed for what he’d lost until he fell into a fitful sleep.

 

 

Harry was startled awake some time later by Merlin letting himself into his room.  Whatever Merlin could see in Harry’s face made him sigh and he nudged Harry over, joining him in the bed.  Harry shifted over without loosening his grip on the medallion, which he’d been clutching all night long with a white-knuckled fist.

“I’m sorry. I should have given it to you in private.” Merlin said.  “I think you must… You must get something _more_ from it than I do.” 

Harry blinked and shifted, but didn’t say a word.  Merlin sighed again.

“They feel like wards to me.” He continued explaining. “Warm, pleasant to touch, protective in nature, but just _wards_.  I didn’t think about how they would interact with _you_.  Adelaide is furious with me.”

Because Harry was hurting, and she could tell.  He could feel her worry, radiating from the cuff on his wrist.  She’d tried to speak to him several times, but Harry had ignored her.

“Will you tell me what you feel?  Will you talk to me at all?”

Harry shook his head. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t articulate what he was feeling to himself, let alone to another.

Harry had always missed his parents in an abstract way, but he hadn’t even known their _names_ until Hagrid had said them.  He missed his parents on the first day of school, when all the other kids rushed outside to their waiting parents and Harry had tried to stall as long as possible to avoid going home to his aunt and uncle.  He missed his parents on Christmas, when he sat in the locked cupboard and listened to the Dursleys celebrate.  He missed his parents absently; they were faceless, vague shapes that were missing from his life but he didn’t _know_ enough about them to _truly_ miss them.

Not until Hogwarts.  Hagrid gave him names, and the truth about how they died.  A plaque in the Trophy Room told him James Potter played Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, that Lily Evans was Head Girl.  An old mirror showed him their faces, and the faces of a dozen other relatives all long dead.  The photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of first year had shown him snapshots of their lives, had included photos of a very small Harry being held in loving arms and given him a glimpse of what he had, once upon a time, actually _had_.

The medallion gave him _so much more_.  It gave him Lily’s voice in his dreams, singing him a lullaby that felt familiar.  It gave him the echo of a hand brushing through his hair, fingers lingering fondly on his cheek.  It gave him the memory of Lily’s laughter, and the faintest whisper of _mummy loves you, Harry. Mummy loves you._

It was overwhelming.  Just plain overwhelming.

“Okay.” Merlin said, nodding. “I won’t push.  I am going to ask you to go downstairs and start your lesson with Hiro, though.  You need to learn how to meditate, and protect your mind, before you return to Hogwarts.”

Harry nodded, and slipped out of bed.  He headed down to the set of rooms Hiro Ito had chosen for himself, and knocked.  Master Ito let him in, and directed him over to a set of cushions on the floor.

“We’re going to start with meditation.  Sit down and get comfortable, and then try to calm your mind.  I won’t ask you to clear it; that would be impossible with the turmoil you’re feeling.  Think of something that you find calming, an image that is peaceful and soothing to you.”

Harry couldn’t think of anything.  His mother’s voice was in his head, though, so he focused on that.  He could feel her hands in his hair, a hum through his body.  He thinks she must have sang to him often, rocking him to sleep.  Always the same song, he knows, always that sweet lullaby.

Harry’s breath evened out, and he felt light and sleepy.  Hiro hummed. “Very good.  What are you thinking about?”

Harry opened his mouth, but the words still stalled in his throat.  Hiro nodded as if he’d spoken anyway.

“Do not grow dependent upon the necklace to ease you into mediation,” he advised. “But, for now, it can only help.  Close your eyes, and just concentrate on your breathing.”

Master Ito began to move around Harry, circling him.  His footsteps were slow and deliberate, falling rhythmically.

“Meditation should be taught to all students in their first year.  It is the cornerstone of so many magical studies later in life.  Animagus training, occlumency, legilimency, divination, ritual casting… all of these require meditation to achieve.  Through meditation, you can learn how to access your magical core.  You can learn how magic flows through you, and gather a better understanding of how your magical channels work so that you can direct magic easier and with greater power.  It is an essential component of true wizardry.

“This is especially true for wizards like us.  Parselmagic is a craft that is accessible by very few.  Beyond the ability to speak with snakes, Parselmagic requires the caster know themselves and their magic intimately.  The Dark Lord Voldemort is not capable of Parselmagic, though he has been trying to learn the art for many decades.  He doesn’t truly understand himself well enough; he hides from himself.  Parselmagic requires complete honesty with one’s self.”

Master Ito sank down to his knees and Harry opened his eyes to look at him.

“Do not hide from your emotions.  Do not coddle yourself.  Do not lie to yourself.  Otherwise, you will never be able to cast Parselmagic as you were intended.  Do not cripple yourself in such a way.”

Harry nodded and Ito rose to his feet in one swift, fluid motion.  He started circling Harry again and commanded him to close his eyes.

“Now, I will teach you how to access your Core.”

Harry didn’t manage to access his core, and just fell asleep on accident instead.  Ito didn’t seem displeased, and just prodded Harry awake again and announced it was time for breakfast.  Afterwards, Harry returned with Master Ito to his room.

Ito directed him to a table and set of chairs rather than the cushions by the fireplace, and placed a piece of parchment and a quill before Harry.  He started asking questions, and Harry wrote down his answers.  Together, they reviewed what Harry had learned during his previous two years at Hogwarts and briefly went through his books for the upcoming year.  Ito took notes on where Harry’s knowledge was gaping and outlined a plan for the rest of the year.

Harry looked it over.  For the next month, the focus was going to be on Harry learning how to meditate and shoring up the knowledge that he was missing on magical theory and practice.  Once the school year started, Harry would have lessons with Hiro every night focusing on expanding his magical repertoire: dueling, warding, parselmagic, rune casting, and healing, all specializations that Hogwarts didn’t have classes for.

Kiyohime interrupted them just before Master Ito dismissed Harry for lunch.  She moved slowly, climbing up the table leg and sliding along the top until Harry reached out and stroked her.  She made a hissing sound that was pure pleasure, not actual words.

“ _You taste of salt and tears.”_

Harry’s hand momentarily stilled before Kiyohime hissed at him to continue.  He resumed his petting.  He found it easy to speak to her. “ _I’m fine.”_

“ _Teenage boys are most difficult.  I remember Hiro at your age. So difficult.”_

Master Ito sighed loudly. “ _Kiyohime, please. I have a reputation to uphold_.”

If a snake were capable of scoffing, Harry suspected Kiyohime would be doing so.  As it was, she just blinked at Hiro until he rolled his eyes and looked away.

“ _Talk to the egg.”_ Kiyohime told Harry. _“It can’t talk back, but it can listen_.”

Harry nodded, quietly thanked Kiyohime, and hurried out of the room for lunch.  Merlin was absent from the meal again, which Harry took to mean Merlin was angry with him for refusing to talk to him.  Daniels tried to encourage him to eat but Harry only managed to pick at his plate.

“Are you well enough to attend your afternoon lessons, Harry?” Lord Daniels asked, resting his hand on Harry’s shoulder.  Harry nodded.  He didn’t especially want to hide away in his room any more than he wanted to sit and go over lessons.  Mostly, he wanted to sleep but felt as if he’d gotten his fair share already.

Harry had been looking forward to lessons with Daniels.  They had seemed interesting, covering everything from law and politics to economics, accounting, and estate management in both the muggle and magical worlds.  He’d been surprised to learn that Daniels, for all that he was a Lord of the Order, was not actually a pureblood.  His mother was muggleborn.  Lord Daniels was the _first_ halfblood to ever inherit a lordship, and _many_ had protested his right to claim the title.  In the forty years that had passed since, several more had done so but the chances that wizarding Britain would be pleased to welcome a halfblood king were rather slim.

Like he had with Master Ito, Harry wrote down his answers whenever Daniels asked him a question.  Daniels had already crafted a schedule for Harry’s lessons and so they jumped right into them.  Most of the day was spent with Harry taking notes, or occasionally pushing a scrap of paper across the table whenever he had a question.  The lessons were interesting, and by dinner time Harry felt like his brain might explode if someone tried to shove one more piece of information into it.

Merlin and Aurora were both present for dinner, and arguing furiously in a language Harry didn’t understand when he arrived.  Aurora glanced at Harry, and then glared at Merlin.

“Tell him!” she ordered. “He has a right to know!”

Merlin looked Harry over. “You look exhausted, Harry.  Go ahead and eat, and head up to bed.  Tomorrow,” he paused and sent a pointed look to Aurora when she opened her mouth to protest, “There is something we must discuss, but I promise it can wait until tomorrow.”

Harry nodded, ate quickly, and then escaped to his room.  He glanced over at Hedwig’s perch and wished he hadn’t sent her away.  He could have used his familiar’s presence; she soothed his soul in ways Harry couldn’t quite explain.

He picked the box Master Ito had given him up off of his desk and let the basilisk egg drop into his hand.  He passed it back and forth, deliberating, and then finally sat cross-legged on his bed.  Following Kiyohime’s advice, he began to talk.

He talked to the egg about everything and anything that came to mind: about his childhood with the Dursleys and being envious of Dudley, about hating his aunt and uncle and wanting their love and approval in equal measure, about the overwhelming sensations the medallion gave him.  He talked until he gave in to the exhaustion of the day, and fell asleep with the egg still grasped in one hand.

He slept peacefully, and didn’t dream.

 

Harry met Master Ito in the morning for meditation.  He greeted Kiyohime with a soft hiss, and then nodded at Ito. “Good morning, sir.”

Ito nodded back. “Good morning, Prince Hadrian.”  He smiled at the face Harry made. “You are feeling better, I see.”

Harry hummed an affirmative at the back of his throat. “Kiyohime gives good advice.  I feel much better.”

“You spoke to the basilisk egg I gave you?  Good.  Sharing a burden makes the weight of it easier to carry.  I will begin teaching you to clear your mind, then.”

“What do I do?”

“Concentrate on your heartbeat, listen as it pounds in your ears.  Focus on taking slow, deep breaths.  Let your mind go quiet.”

Harry frowned. “I should remove the amulet then.”

Ito looked at him sharply, “Why?”

“It… sings to me. In my head.  I can hear her voice.”

“Your mother’s.”

Harry nodded. “She helped yesterday… sang me down, like she was singing me to sleep.”

“Talk to it.  I’m sure she will be quiet if you ask her to.”

Harry apparently didn’t need to.  As soon as Master Ito suggested it, Lily Potter’s voice receded and Harry’s mind was his own again.  He wasn’t particularly sure it was worth it.  His mother’s presence was very comforting, and he loathed the thought of being alone again.

After an hour of meditation, during which Harry still failed to access his magical core, Master Ito dismissed him and Harry went down for breakfast.  Merlin was already waiting for him, as was Aurora, and Merlin cleared his throat when Harry entered the dining hall.

“Good morning.” Merlin greeted him.

“Good morning.” Harry returned.  Merlin looked surprised.

“You’re talking.”

Harry gave a one-shouldered shrug as a trio of brownies set plates of biscuits and sausage links before him.  He spread honey on one biscuit and took a bite.

“Can you tell me what the amulet feels like now?” Merlin asked.

“Merlin, we have other things to discuss.” Aurora protested.

“It’s okay,” Harry said.  “I’m not sure I can really explain it though… Before, when people talked about love, I’m not sure I really understood.  I’d never been loved.  I understand now, though. I know what it feels like.”

“You feel her love, then.”

“I feel _her_.  I hear her voice in my head, and I can remember the way she smelled, and I get the sensation of fingers in my hair when I’m falling asleep.”

“They’re just _wards_ , Harry.  They carry an… impression, perhaps, but it is just a lingering echo of her magic.  They aren’t,” Merlin paused, searching for the right words.  ”They aren’t your mother.  They aren’t _real_.  They don’t even hold sentience.”

Harry shrugged.  He didn’t know how to explain what he felt to Merlin.  It was more than just wards; his mother had found a way to remain with him.  He wouldn’t try to convince Merlin of that, but he wasn’t letting the idea go either.

“If they were just wards, Merlin, he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did.  Now, tell him.”

Merlin sighed.  “It’s a long story, Harry.”

“I’m listening.”

“Do you remember the day we went downstairs, to the ritual room?  And I showed you Prongs’ room?”

Harry nodded. “You said you’d explain why he had a room here later.”

“Well, it’s later.” Merlin took a deep breath.  “When your father went to school at Hogwarts, he was sorted into Gryffindor.  He shared a dorm with three other boys: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.  They became the best of friends, especially James and Sirius.  They were actually cousins, you see.  Charlus Potter’s wife Dorea was Sirius’ aunt.  Sirius was the first Black to be Sorted into Gryffindor in four hundred years, and it caused quite a scandal, but he found friends, _good_ friends.  As it turned out, however, Remus Lupin was a werewolf. He’d been bitten as a child. Dumbledore, who was already Headmaster at the time, thought up a _clever_ way for Lupin to attend Hogwarts.”

“You don’t sound like you agree that it was clever.”

“I agree that the boy should have had the ability to attend Hogwarts. I don’t agree with the way it was handled.  It was dangerous.  Instead of locking the boy up in one of the numerous chambers in the dungeons that could have more than held a werewolf during the full moon, Dumbledore had a tunnel dug from the Hogwarts grounds… to here.  To the _Shrieking Shack_ , as the locals like to call it.  He, like everyone else, believed it to be abandoned.  Family Wards kept the werewolf from coming into the upper levels, but he caused a lot of destruction to the lower ones.”

“So how did my dad get a room here if there was a wild werewolf rampaging down there?”

“Lupin was James’ friend.  James and Black quickly figured out there was _something_ their friend wasn’t telling them, and eventually figured out what that something was.  They started animagus training, to keep him company during the full moon.  James became a stag, Black a dog, and Pettigrew a rat.  They would follow him down the tunnel and stay here with him, each picking rooms to call their own.  They claimed this place as their own, often coming here even when it was not a full moon.  I watched them for years, and James spent most of his final two years at Hogwarts trying to figure out how to get past the old Family Wards.  He knew the Shack was owned by Hogwarts, and so to an extent owned by him.  He, rightfully, thought he should have had access.”

“Why didn’t he?”

“This has always been my home above all else.  James was a young, brash man and I didn’t want my secret to get out.  It was selfish, but I didn’t allow him access.  I do not know how Lily Potter came here when she did.  She wasn’t admitted to the Family Wards, and she shouldn’t have known anyone was here anyway.”

“Back at Gringotts, Ragnarok said that Sirius Black was incarcerated.  You… said his name like you hated him.”

Merlin was quiet for so long, Harry thought that perhaps he wasn’t going to answer him.  Finally, he spoke again.

“Sirius Black was James’ best friend.  He stood up as best man at James and Lily’s wedding.  They made him your godfather, essentially a magical parent.  When James and Lily went into hiding, they made Sirius Black their Secret Keeper.  The Fidelius Charm is a powerful and wonderful thing.  It hides a property, and those that call that property home, completely and totally.  It makes the location a _secret_ that only a select person may reveal to others.  Voldemort could never, ever have found them unless the Secret Keeper told him.  It is impossible.  Sirius Black betrayed your parents to Voldemort, and he caused their deaths.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open.  “He… he betrayed them?”

“Yes.  And then he found out Voldemort had been vanquished, killed thirteen muggles, and took out another of his friends in one great swoop.  All that was left of Peter Pettigrew after Black was finished with him was a finger.  He was laughing when the aurors took him away.  I think he must have gone insane at some point.  Madness… it runs in the Black Family.”

“Ragnarok said that he was arrested.  So, he’s in jail.  He’ll stay there, won’t he?”

“He was sent to Azkaban prison without even a trial.  So many people were devastated by what he’d done, they just threw him into a cell to rot.  Two days ago, Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban.  He’s the first to ever do so; most would have said it was impossible before now.  Yesterday, he was spotted in Surrey not even three blocks from Privet Drive.”

Harry’s mouth had gone dry.  He licked at his lips and tried to breathe normally.  “You think he’s going after me.”

“I think it is a concern.  You need to be careful.  Aurora will be there to guard you as much as she is able to whenever you are outside of your dormitory, but she cannot always be with you.  Promise me that you will be careful, Harry.”

“I promise.” Harry said instantly.  It wasn’t a hard promise to make.  “I don’t go looking for trouble, you know.”

Merlin smiled, “Yes, I know. But, trouble has a nasty habit of following you around like a stalker, Harry.”

“Well, it can stop. I’ve already got one crazy stalker out to get me. I don’t need another.”

“Go,” Merlin tells him. “You’ve got lessons to get back to.  I’ve asked Hiro to focus on defensive magic as much as possible.”

“Okay.” Harry agreed.  “But, you don’t have to worry so much.  My mum’ll look after me now. Like she did at the Dursleys’.

Merlin’s mouth tightened at the corners and he looked away.  He didn’t try to argue with Harry, but Harry could tell he wanted to.  Harry grabbed a piece of toast and stood up.  He had lessons to attend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made a family tree for Harry, for those of you that have issues following that sort of thing.  
> [Lily's Family Tree](http://s172.photobucket.com/user/jadedhavok/media/IHBW%20-%20Harrys%20Family%20Lily_zpshpqub7wc.jpg.html?sort=3&o=1)  
> [The Potter Family Tree](http://s172.photobucket.com/user/jadedhavok/media/IHBW%20-%20Harrys%20Family%20Potter_zps3octxgsw.jpg.html?sort=3&o=2)  
> [The Gryffindor and Slytherin Tree](http://s172.photobucket.com/user/jadedhavok/media/IHBW%20-%20Harrys%20Family%20Slytherin%20and%20Gryffindor_zpsd9wshenr.jpg.html?sort=3&o=0)


	3. The Duke of Gryffindor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry arrives for his third year at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta readers (who continue to be utterly AMAZING) had great reactions to this chapter, so I'm really excited to share it with you all.

Merlin had always meant for Harry to return to Hogwarts, but by the time September 1st actually arrived, Merlin had half-convinced himself it would be better for Harry to stay hidden. Since Hiro Ito had refused to listen to Merlin’s arguments and just told him to stop being so sentimental, and since Harry was beside himself with glee at the thought of returning to Hogwarts, and since Aurora continued to only laugh at him, Merlin was tragically outnumbered. He would go and speak to Dumbledore, but Harry would be returning to Hogwarts one way or another.

Come mid-afternoon, Merlin found he could no longer put off his talk with Dumbledore when Aurora forcibly shoved him down the tunnel that led to Hogwarts. He borrowed Harry’s invisibility cloak for the journey and snuck away into the castle, whose wards greeted him eagerly like an old friend. He found a witch who could only be Minerva McGonagall, hurrying frantically down the hall and looking close to tears, and followed her all the way to the Headmaster’s Office. He let her go into the room alone, and stopped the door from closing so he could listen to the unfolding discussion.

“Remus has sent me an owl.” He could hear McGonagall saying. “He’s been up and down the train three times. Harry Potter is not on it.”

Dumbledore’s voice was very low, and he sounded resigned. “Then we must… accept the worst.”

“Albus.” It was a protest, almost a refusal.

“I’m sorry, Minerva. I really am.”

“There must be an explanation. He must be somewhere.” 

“I have searched everywhere, Minerva. Ever since Arabella Figg sent word that she’d not seen Harry in more than a week… The wards were just gone, Minerva. Not broken, not wrecked, utterly… gone. Like they had never been there.” He sounded deeply troubled and Merlin smirked, feeling a little self-satisfied. He had been somewhat worried that he’d left behind his own signature when he’d harvested the wards and was pleased to hear that he hadn’t. “And then the Dursleys went missing on Harry’s birthday, coincidentally the last day anyone heard from Harry.”

“The letters he wrote to his friends insisted that he was safe and happy.”

“They also claimed Harry would be writing again, and yet he did not.”

That was actually Merlin’s fault. After Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban, Merlin had been afraid that allowing Harry even the slightest correspondence might lead Black to their door. Harry had not been happy about the decision, but hadn’t been given much choice in the matter.

“When will the train arrive?” Albus asked. “We will have to tell the other students something.”

“On time. There is no reason to think Sirius Black will come to Hogwarts if he,” her voice broke and she had to swallow hard to continue, “If he has already gotten to Harry.”

“I must Floo the Minister. Tell him… I must tell him my suspicions. We’ll need to inform the public about our loss.”

“He can’t be dead, Albus. He just can’t be. He’s the Boy Who Lived.”

Merlin had heard enough. “Harry Potter,” he said, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. Both Dumbledore and McGonagall whirled towards the voice with their wands drawn, and Merlin arched an eyebrow at them. He continued after a moment’s pause, “Is alive and well. He has been under my protection these last few weeks.”

“And just who the ruddy hell are you?” Minerva demanded. There were spots of color high on her cheeks and Merlin reminded himself that one didn’t provoke a witch if one could help it.

Merlin stepped further into the room, opening his arms wide to show he was unarmed. Dumbledore’s phoenix let out a joyful trill, and Merlin nodded at it. He’d known a phoenix or two in his time, though he’d never met this particular one before.

“My name is Merlin.”

“You can’t possibly be serious.” Minerva said, “Or expect us to fall for such a thing.”

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t particularly care what you choose to believe or not to believe. I’m here to discuss a few things with you. If Harry is to return to Hogwarts, there will have to be some changes made.”

“I will not let you hold that boy hostage!”

“Minerva.” Dumbledore cautioned. Merlin could see the calculating look in his eyes, and thought Dumbledore was in for a rude awakening if he thought he could manipulate and use Merlin like he did others.

“Harry isn’t my hostage.” Merlin finally said. “He’s my ward.”

He reached into his pocket, and almost smiled when both Dumbledore and McGonagall tensed. He pulled out a scroll the goblins had prepared and handed it to Dumbledore.

“I’ve been confirmed as the Regent for the Pendragon Estate, and Harry as the rightful heir. Alongside the Pendragon Estate are of course the Gryffindor, Peverell, and Potter estates. And, curiously, through his mother, Harry has inherited two estates thought lost to us: the Pevensie and Ravenclaw Estates. Because of Sirius Black’s incarceration, he’s currently the regent for the Blackmoor Estate, and by conquest the Slytherin Estate. When he turns seventeen, Harry Potter will inherit all of those and more, and it is my duty to prepare him for his role as the future king of our people.”

Dumbledore’s mouth dropped open, his jaw falling and his mouth actually gaping for several seconds. Merlin made a mental note to share this memory with Aurora later; she’d be tickled pink by it. When he found his voice, Dumbledore protested, “The Pendragon Estate has not been claimed since the fall of King Arthur. It cannot be claimed. All of his heirs were lost to us.”

“No. His youngest son was saved and his line persevered. The goblins have thoroughly tested Prince Hadrian’s blood, and he is indeed the heir of Arthur Pendragon.” Merlin nodded at the scroll. “Furthermore, proof of my own claim. I am Merlin Emrys.”

Albus sat down. Minerva looked about ready to faint, as she carefully sat as well.

“What are your demands?” Albus asked. “For Harry to return to Hogwarts?”

Merlin sat down. He resisted the urge to kick his feet up on Dumbledore’s desk. After all, he was over two thousand years old and Hiro Ito would only chide him later for being childish and petty. “Harry and I have discussed this at great length. First, you and all the teachers of this institution are going to have to respect the fact that Harry Potter is, in fact, Prince Hadrian Pendragon the Earl of Gryffindor, the future king of our people, and the rightful owner of this castle and land. It has been agreed that I will hold the Gryffindor regency until Harry has graduated, to avoid a bias, but he has discussed with me his concerns for the school and changes he would like to have made. And, rest assured, these changes will be made, with or without your approval.”

Dumbledore did not look pleased at that, but he didn’t say anything in protest. Merlin nodded, pleased, and continued:

“The current Board of Governors has already been dismissed; they should be receiving word from our solicitor tonight. Harry would like to create a new Board, but until such a thing can be done, all decisions will be made by us. To begin with, Harry would like to ensure all subjects are being taught by competent, well-informed, and worthwhile teachers. He’s expressed the most concern over the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; it is my understanding that the last two hires proved to be an utter fraud and Voldemort in disguise. I understand you’ve hired Remus Lupin for the position this year.”

“Remus Lupin is a fine man,” McGonagall burst out, “And an exemplary teacher. He has outstanding recommendations from the Salem Academy and –”

“And,” Merlin interrupted with a slight smile, “I have absolutely no problem with that choice. I will be having a firm discussion with him about his condition and the rules I expect him to follow to keep the students safe, but otherwise welcome him with open arms. As for the others professors that we’re concerned about, well. I knew Professor Binns when he was alive, and the man was dull then. Harry has revealed to me his extremely limited knowledge of the history of our people, and it is frankly insulting. I won’t be exorcising Binns by any means, but a competent History of Magic teacher must be found by the start of next year. In the meantime, I’ll be teaching the class.”

Merlin paused to give Dumbledore a chance to argue. Again, the man remained silent, though he was looking less and less happy with each word that came from Merlin’s mouth. Merlin figured the next bit was really going to piss him off.

“There is also the question of his Potions teacher, who I have been informed enjoys frightening and tormenting his students to an uncalled for degree. It is unacceptable and he will be dismissed as an instructor immediately. A new teacher will be found by Yule, and until then Master Hiro Ito from Japan will be filling the position.”

“Severus Snape is-” Albus started, but Merlin cut him off.

“I know very well who and what Severus Snape is. He’s a bully. He is cruel to children, and I don’t just specifically mean Harry. He hates children and he wants to see them fail. That is not the attitude any teacher should have. He will be dismissed immediately. Harry will not step foot in this castle while Snape resides here. I consider him a direct danger to Harry.”

“Severus has on more than one occasion saved Harry’s life.”

“You should address him by his proper title, Albus Dumbledore. Prince Hadrian has been brutally honest on the subject of Severus Snape and even if he had not been, I’ve done my research. I looked at his public teaching records. Only five Gryffindors have earned a NEWT in his class in the last ten years, and only twenty-seven Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws have managed one. In contrast, almost every Slytherin that has attempted one has earned one, deserving or not. He’s a bigot and he plays favorites and there’s no place for that here. This is a school.”

Dumbledore shut his mouth.

“Now, let’s discuss the change Harry would like to make to the housing system, effective immediately.”

“I’m sorry,” Albus interrupted, “But what do you mean a change in the housing system? The housing system has been in place since the Founders first created Hogwarts and–”

“Actually, it hasn’t. Originally, the Founders equally taught the children until the age of thirteen when they would decide which students were better suited for which teacher for private instruction. It was only when the Founders were choosing the first Headmaster and the Sorting Hat was created that the Sorting began to take place when the children were eleven. Harry thinks we should return to the original tradition. As such, starting immediately, the children of Hogwarts will not be Sorted until the start of their third year, when they begin to undertake elective courses and private study. First and second years will be living together in a separate house, though this year’s second years will be allowed to continuing living with their current housemates. In the future, this should help create more house unity, and it will serve to isolate the younger children from the older ones in a more appropriate fashion. The Head Girl and Boy will live in the same house as the younger years to watch over them. Harry believes that it would be best if the Deputy Headmistress served as the Head of House for the younger students, and left Gryffindor House to someone else. I would suggest Remus Lupin.”

McGonagall looked utterly shell-shocked, but nodded along. “Remus would make a good Head… And as Deputy Headmistress, this would ensure no one sees me as biased towards a particular House.”

“Exactly, so glad you agree. Now, moving on to the particulars… Harry will not be the first Earl of Gryffindor to take the Lordship while still a student at Hogwarts, and as such there are already accommodations in place for him. He will be using the Lord’s Chamber in Gryffindor tower from now on, and his personal house elf Dobby has asked that the Hogwarts elves not step into his domain.

“Harry takes private lessons with me and his other tutors every night. His curfew will be extended, and no points shall be taken if they run late and he is caught in the halls returning to his dorm. These lessons are imperative. Alongside learning about wizarding history, muggle and magical law, ethics, and politics, he is learning how to manage his multiple estates, and I’m instructing him in war magic and battle tactics. This will take up a great deal of time, and Harry has been given a time-turner to accomplish it. Every Saturday Harry will be leaving the castle. He will be meeting with Lord George Daniels. To this end, any detentions he may be assigned will have to be served on Sundays. This is not negotiable.”

“That sounds… fair.” Albus allowed.

“One last thing. Harry has a personal guard. She’ll be using chambers outside of the Gryffindor Dormitories, but she will be escorting Harry to his classes and ensuring that no harm come to him. Her name is Aurora Bellerose. I believe you know her.”

Dumbledore looked like he had swallowed a lemon. Except, of course, Merlin thought, that Dumbledore actually liked lemons, so perhaps more like there was something foul under his nose.

“If you think it necessary, but I assure you that,” Dumbledore clearly hesitated, “that Prince Hadrian is quite safe in Hogwarts’ halls.”

“I would believe that, if not for there being a troll in the girls’ bathroom, a three-headed dog, all those traps you had protecting Flamel’s philosopher’s stone, and the basilisk he had to fight and kill last year.” Merlin paused and sighed. “Speaking of which. Master Hiro Ito is most displeased he was not contacted about the poor beast before she was killed. He believes that the basilisk could have been a great protector for Hogwarts, as Salazar Slytherin intended, and has graciously decided to replace the Hogwarts’ basilisk with one of his own. You know, of course, that Master Ito’s family is famous for the raising of domesticated basilisks in Japan. Kiyohime is the oldest of his snakes and has agreed to shelter and protect all of Hogwarts’ students from any threat. She will be arriving tonight with Hiro Ito. Harry, for his part, utterly adores Kiyohime.”

“A basilisk has no place in a school, Mister,” McGonagall trailed off, clearly displeased to not know how to address Merlin. She crossed her arms and scowled.

“Emrys. My last name is Emrys. Kiyohime is not like the basilisk that Harry killed last June. She is less than thirty feet long, about as thick as a man’s bicep, and she has been raised and bred for the protection of children. She will not harm a student here. I assure you of this.”

“Basilisks are illegal in Britain!” McGonagall all but shouted.

“Basilisks are illegal to breed in Britain, not to own. Kiyohime, and those like her that the Ito family breed, have a thin, secondary eyelid that nullifies their gaze. She has to willingly pull back these lids to petrify or kill someone, which she would not do without great cause. The Ito family has literally been breeding these snakes for two millennium and Hogwarts should count themselves lucky that Master Ito is willing to donate a snake, and his prize snake at that, to her service. His snakes are usually extremely expensive, and Kiyohime would be considered priceless due to her age and close connection with Master Ito. When snakes are exposure to a parselmouth for as long as Kiyohime has been exposed to Master Ito, they gain human-like intelligence. You also run the risk of insulting not only Master Ito but the entire country of Japan by rejecting a gift like this. It could ruin the political relationship between our countries to an untold degree. Need I remind you that Hiro Ito is for all intents and purposes immortal and that he’s every bit the kind of man that would hold a grudge for his next thousand years.”

McGonagall shut up and looked helplessly over to Dumbledore, who sighed.

“We would be happy to accept such a gracious gift from Master Ito.” He said, lying his wrinkly arse off.

Merlin leaned back in his seat and smiled, satisfied.

“Now, as to the matter of Sirius Black. Dementors will not step foot onto Gryffindor land. They have been banned from this land for centuries and it is a violation of the Gryffindor Treaty for the Ministry to place such creatures on this land. I will be setting wards to keep dementors away, along with some other wards. These wards will keep out unwanted Animagus and dark creatures, and there will be an intent ward that will keep away anyone with wishes to harm Hogwarts or any student within. There will be additional monitoring charms added in the halls, classrooms, and dorms.”

“Isn’t that a little extreme?” McGonagally asked. She was frowning deeply, but Merlin couldn’t tell if it was at him, the idea of the wards, or the implication of why they were necessary. “Our students deserve some privacy, of course.”

“I don’t think they’re extreme and Harry doesn’t either. These wards will monitor the mental, emotional, magical, and physical health of all the students. They will alert the Headmaster, the Head of House, the closest teacher, and myself of any violence that breaks out in the halls or classrooms. This includes hexing and physical fighting. They are structured in such a way to record the event so that it may be viewed in a pensieve to ensure honesty and prevent wrongful punishments. Let me be clear.”

Merlin held up a hand when Dumbledore opened his mouth to say something. He paused and looked first McGonagall and then Dumbledore in the eye. He kept his gaze on Dumbledore as he continued.

“If any student purposefully harms another, they will be severely punished. A second infraction will include a temporary suspension, during which they will be sent home. A third infraction will include expulsion. Obviously, in certain circumstances, expulsion may be required from the beginning. Furthermore…” Merlin trailed off as he climbed to his feet.

Situated behind the Headmaster’s Desk was a portrait of four of the most famous witches and wizards in the world. Salazar, Godric, Rowena, and Helga were all sleeping in their portrait. According to Hogwarts: A History, the Founders Portrait would only awaken in a time when Hogwarts was in great peril, but in all actuality the third person to serve as Headmaster to Hogwarts had spelled the portrait to sleep in order to gain more control over Hogwarts itself. All of the portraits of the Four Founders had been equally affected and had all fallen asleep, which is why poor Adelaide Gryffindor had not been able to interact with the child she had insisted she be painted with in several hundred years. Merlin concentrated hard, and then reached out and ended the spell. The Founders woke with a start. Dumbledore’s sharp inhale did not go unnoticed by Merlin.

“Furthermore, Hogwarts herself will be monitoring the children. The castle will be able to take and give points in equal measure just like any professor. If any student uses the word mudblood they will now automatically lose points. If they start a fight, they will automatically lose points. If they break a rule, they will automatically lose points. Hogwarts will be a safe place for all students if I have to expel half the student body to ensure it.”

McGonagall actually snorted a little at that, and Merlin shot her a grin. He sat back down in his chair and this time did prop his feet up on the desk. Dumbledore glared at him like he wanted to curse his arse off, and Merlin’s grin widened.

“Finally, there will be wards added to prevent the students from entering the Dark Forest; it is too dangerous of a temptation for them. Professionals should be hired to manage the Forest. There is at least one species living there that is not indigenous and must be moved, to ensure the health of the Forest. Also, it has been nearly three decades since the unicorn herds were last counted, or the treaty with the centaurs renewed.”

Merlin cocked his head and thought about it. “I actually think that’s it. If you agree to these things, then Harry will return here for school.”

“And if I don’t?” Albus asked.

“Well, I’m Regent of the Gryffindor Estate and a lot of these changes are happening whether you want them to or not. I can always find a new Headmaster, Albus. However, if you refuse the provisions explicitly stated about Harry, then I will simply educate him at home. Until I can find a new Headmaster.”

“It seems I have no choice then. I will, of course, agree to your stipulations.”

“Good. Severus Snape should be dismissed immediately. I will return with Harry before the Welcoming Feast. If Snape is still here, he will not be staying, though I will allow an examination of his good health.” Merlin turned and headed towards the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned and regarded Dumbledore once more.

“I should warn you now, Dumbledore. Harry is not the same boy he was when you last saw him. The last few months have been good for him, and he has learned much about his family and what he has been denied. He is aware of his status, his responsibilities, and he won’t allow himself to be anyone’s pawn.”

 

Harry had packed and repacked his things nearly six times, and apparently Dobby had reached his limit. The house-elf had sealed Harry’s new trunk so that Harry could not get back inside, and then sat on it for good measure.

“I just want to make sure I have everything.”

“Yous has everything.” Dobby promised. “And if yous don’t, Dobby be getting it for you.”

Harry sighed. “Merlin said I’m going to have my own rooms in Gryffindor Tower. It’s going to make people angry.”

By people, Harry of course meant Ron Weasley. Ron had been Harry’s first friend, but Harry was not blind to his faults and Ron’s biggest fault had always been jealousy. He was jealous of Hermione’s smarts and lashed out at her when she did well. He was jealous of Harry’s wealth and so he preened at Christmas when he got an entire pile of presents from his various family members and Harry got just three, from Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid. He was jealous of Harry’s fame but enjoyed living on the outskirts of it, getting recognized as Harry Potter’s best friend and being known, even for that little bit.

Ron was going to hate that Harry got his own room. Ron was going to hate Dobby and he was going to hate Aurora. Ron was going to hate that Harry had the power he now had, that he had a title and a family legacy, that one day Harry would be (if he chose, and he hadn’t really decided for sure if he was going to) King. Ron was going to hate Harry’s status inside of Hogwarts, and Ron was going to hate Harry’s familiarity with Merlin and Master Ito. Harry had seen it before. He knew that before long, what Harry had was going to outweigh what Ron gained from being Harry’s friend, and then Ron was going to hate him.

Harry had thought about it for a long time, and eventually decided that he didn’t care.

Harry wasn’t going to turn his back on his family’s legacy now that he finally knew he had a family legacy. He wasn’t going to push Dobby away, or pretend not to have a relationship with his mentors. He wasn’t going to reduce himself to keep Ron Weasley’s friendship. Ron either accepted Harry, or he didn’t.

“Dobby be setting up yous room during Feast.”

“Make sure you have a nice spot for yourself. A warm bed and a place for you to relax.”

Dobby made a face. “I not needing relaxation.”

“Do it or I’ll send you on a vacation.”

“Fine. Harry be mean brother sometimes.”

Harry shrugged a shoulder, but grinned. He’d fought with Dobby all summer about what to call him. Some instinctive part of Dobby still wanted to call Harry by a title, but Harry loathed master and lord and even mister. Dobby was part of Harry’s family, not some random servant. In the end, they had settled on brother, because that’s what they were. Brothers in magic.

There was a knock on the door, and Harry called for whoever it was to enter. He wasn’t surprised to find that it was Merlin.

“Back already? How’d it go, then?”

“Good.” Merlin conjured a chair and sat, propping his feet up on the window seat Harry was seated in. “McGonagall was there. Dumbledore was convinced you were dead.”

“They agreed to the terms?”

“Dumbledore isn’t stupid. He can’t argue with most of them. The Hogwarts Charter is very specific about the power the Headmaster possesses and more specifically the power the Earl of Gryffindor possesses. The other Founders’ Heirs could technically protest and call for a vote, except –”

“Except, I am Ravenclaw’s only heir, and Slytherin’s is dead. Which leaves Hufflepuff’s.”

“The Bones family holds Regency and Amelia Bones isn’t going to protest anything we’ve done so far.”

Harry nods. “Okay. Snape’s gone?”

“I told them they had until the Welcoming Feast to get rid of him. Dumbledore is very keen to get you back under his thumb, so I’m sure Snape will be gone in time.”

“I still wish I could have ridden the train.”

“I know, and I’m sorry that you couldn’t. It just isn’t safe.”

“I know. I said I understood and I do. It’s just… I miss my friends. I promised them I’d write, and then I didn’t, and I’m keeping secrets from them. They’re going to be mad.”

“They might be upset and worried, but if they are any kind of friend to you at all, they will understand and forgive you. You can blame it all on me.”

“Of course I will. It’s your fault anyway.”

Merlin grinned, completely unapologetic. He always was, when it came to Harry and particularly Harry’s safety.

“We can walk over whenever you’re ready.”

“Did you wake the portrait like you wanted?”

“Yes. Adelaide thanked me downstairs; Little Godric has woken and is being mothered. You might find her… distracted. I don’t want you to think that she isn’t still devoted to you.”

Harry shrugged. He had always known Adelaide focused on him a great deal because she had no access to her actual son, and wasn’t going to get upset. Adelaide loved her son so very much, and it obviously pained her to not be able to truly have him with her as she had originally intended. They’d had Godric painted and included with them as a toddler for a reason.

“Why hadn’t you done so before? If it was so easy?”

“I have hidden myself away for a long time. It was selfish and caused many to suffer. Ultimately, Adelaide is just another to be hurt because I wanted to keep hiding from the world.” Merlin paused, and then cleared his throat. “Make sure you’re all packed. We’ll go over in a few hours to catch the Feast. I’ve already had Hiro tell Kiyohime she can go over to Hogwarts at any point.”

“Oh! My egg!” Harry rushed over to his bed and pulled the egg out from under his pillow. “I can’t believe I almost forgot him. See!” Harry pointed a finger at Dobby. “I told you I was forgetting something.”

Dobby sighed. “Yous be making Dobby’s life most difficult, brother. Most difficult.”

 

Harry followed Merlin down, deep into the tunnel that led from the Shrieking Shack and out the other side onto Hogwarts grounds. He flinched at the sight of the Whomping Willow looming overhead, but quickly realized it was still and not reacting to their presence at all.

Merlin pointed a finger at a spot, where one of the Willow’s roots was sticking up out of the ground. There was a knot there. “There’s the trick. If you touch that spot, the tree goes still for a solid thirty seconds. Plenty of time to get out of the way.”

“Like the book Hagrid sent me. Stroke the spine.”

“Everything has a weakness, Harry.”

Harry could see the tiny boats floating across the lake, and closer yet were the horseless chariots pulling up to the front steps of Hogwarts proper. Harry spotted Hermione and Ron and couldn’t help the grin. “Hermione! Ron!” he shouted, and waved.

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked, and took off running. She flung herself forcibly into Harry’s arms and started to cry into his shoulder. Shocked, Harry just patted her on the back.

Ron followed her at a more sedate pace. He was grinning, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hermione pulled away and hit Harry in the arm. “Harry James Potter! I’ve been so worried about you. You can’t say you’ll write more and then stop sending me letters. I thought you’d died!”

“Hermione, I’m fine.”

She huffed and looked like she might curse him. Harry was glad Hermione had a tendency to forget she was a witch when she was upset or under pressure, otherwise he was sure he would have been hit by a jinx instead of having her hug the daylights out of him.

“Where’ve you been, mate?” Ron asked. “We looked all over the train for you.”

“I didn’t take the train. My new guardian brought me here directly.”

“You have a new guardian?” Ron frowned.

“Yeah, he’s right…” Harry trailed off when he realized Merlin had snuck away. He spotted him further up the walk, just as he passed through the doors and into the castle. “Well, I’m sure you’ll meet him later.”

“It’s so great that you escaped the Dursleys.” Hermione said. “You look good! Healthy. Usually you’re so skinny at the end of the summer.”

“Are those new robes?” Ron asked. He was outright glaring.

“Yeah, I had a growth spurt and outgrew my last ones. Plus, I got rid of all my muggle clothes since I won’t be going back to the Dursleys again. Ever. So I got proper wizard robes, not just the school ones. We should go inside, and get a seat. I haven’t eaten since lunch and I’m kind of starved.”

At the mention of food, Ron was immediately distracted. They picked their way through the students enthusiastically greeting one another and found seats at the Gryffindor table. Hermione sat on one side of Harry, while Ron sat across from him. Neville claimed the seat on Harry’s other side, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Good to see you, Harry. How was your summer?”

“It was really good. Thanks for the plant. It’s gotten big. I couldn’t exactly bring it to Hogwarts, but you should come over and see it sometime.”

Ron cocked his head. “Plant?”

“Neville sent me a young devil’s snare for my birthday.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Neville smiled. “Thanks for the new cage for Trevor. He can’t escape anymore, and if he gets lost it lets me summon him back to the cage. Brilliant, that. I didn’t know they made such a thing.”

“They’re usually used for snakes,” Harry admitted. “But I wrote to Mr. Bishop who runs the Magical Menagerie and asked if he could make one for toads. I’m sorry it came a little late.”

Neville shrugged it off. “Not that late. I got it on the fourth.”

“You bought Neville something?” Ron butted in.

Harry nodded. “For his birthday. It’s the day before mine, you know.”

“Hermione sent me a self-updating planner for school, to help me keep track of assignments and things I need to study. Also a quill that teaches you how to take better notes. Gran was impressed.”

“That sounds really cool. Where’d you get the quill, Hermione? I have a hard time with note-taking, actually. How do you pick out what’s important and what’s not?”

“I got it from Flourish and Blotts’ owl catalog.”

“Cool.”

“Shouldn’t it be time for the Sorting by now?” Ron asked. His voice was sharp and Harry knew it was because they were discussing buying things. “I’m hungry.”

As if on cue, McGonagall led the first years into the room. Instead of moving into the center of the room like usual though, they clustered towards the main doors. Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat.

“The Duke of Gryffindor has claimed the Gryffindor Family ring. This means that, per the school charter, he has final say in all school-based decisions. The current Duke of Gryffindor is underage, and as such his Regent will be monitoring the Gryffindor Estate in his name. It is my pleasure to introduce all of you to a man you all likely assumed to be a legend: Merlin Emrys.”

Merlin stood and waved at them all. “Hello, I’m Merlin. Yes, that Merlin. I have the pleasure of serving as the Regent of Gryffindor. I actually knew Godric Gryffindor. I held him as a baby, and I was there when he wed his wife, and I was there when he finally passed away. I knew Rowena, Helga, and Salazar, though not as closely. I say this so you might trust that I know what I am doing when it comes to this school. Part of that involves returning to a tradition the Founders themselves practiced… The First-Years will not be Sorted this year. From now on, they will be Sorted at the beginning of their Third Year, instead.”

Merlin waved his hand and a fifth table, smaller than all the others, appeared. There was a roar from the students, some in joy and others in protest. The First-Years looked gutted, but also relieved, as they all made their way over to the table and sat down. Merlin himself sat, and looked over at Dumbledore with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, well. There have also been some faculty changes. Professor Remus Lupin will be joining us as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Mister Rubeus Hagrid will be taking over the Care of Magical Creatures classes.” Dumbledore paused as the Gryffindor table cheered loudly, Harry among them. He adored Hagrid, and was amazed Merlin had managed to keep the news from him. It did explain the biting book. “Professor Snape has chosen to accept an opportunity abroad, and in his place Master Hiro Ito will be teaching Potions. I will warn you all that Master Ito is over a thousand years old, and has little tolerance for misbehavior. Finally, Merlin himself will be teaching a more modern History of Magic course, as it has come to the school’s attention that very little is actually learned from Professor Binns. Rest assured, Professor Binns will still be in his classroom teaching if any of you feel the desire to join him.”

“We’re going to be learning History from the Merlin?” Hermione looked positively awed.

“Forget that. Snape’s gone!” Ron cheered.

“And we get Master Ito. He’s a legend. His greenhouses have some of the rarest plants on the planet and he’s credited as being one of the six potion’s masters who worked on the Wolfsbane Potion that lets werewolves keep their human mind during the full moon.” Neville added.

“How can he be that old, though?” Hermione asked.

“He has a Blood Stone.” Harry answered. “Like the philosopher’s stone, it extends one’s life.”

“How do you know?” Ron asked, suddenly. “Is he your new guardian?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “But he is mentoring me. He’s a parselmouth, like me, and is teaching me how to use parselmagic.”

“But Harry that’s dark magic.” Ron’s voice dropped to a low whisper as he practically hissed last two words.

“No it isn’t.” Harry said crossly. “Parselmagic is a well-respected magical study outside of the British Isles. It used to be just as respected in Britain, but it was also fairly common. When gifts like paselmagic started to go dormant in the old family lines, it was ruled that those that managed to retain the magic were dark. It was an act done out of fear and jealousy, and that’s stupid.”

Ron stared at him.

“So who is your new guardian, then?”

“You got a new guardian, Harry?” Neville asked. “That’s good. Those muggles didn’t treat you right.”

“Yeah, Merlin showed up in my room at the Dursleys in the middle of the night and said he had a duty to see to my protection. I spent the summer with him.”

“You got to spend the entire summer with Merlin?” Ron repeated.

Harry shrugged, “It wasn’t that big of a deal. He’s mostly been teaching me. He never shuts up, actually. Always has another lesson for me to learn.”

“You’ve gotten special instruction from Merlin?”

“What’s the big deal? He’s just a person. He’s taught loads of people over the years, even if they didn’t know he was the Merlin when he did so. He’s even taught at Hogwarts before, just after Dumbledore graduated but before he became a teacher here. He just went by a different name at the time. I get the feeling he does that a lot, tells people he’s someone else.”

Ron opened his mouth and then shut it. He frowned and turned back to his plate.

“Ron?”

“You don’t even get how lucky you are. Just… forget it and leave me alone.”

“Okay.” Harry agreed, and turned to Hermione. “He’s really excited to meet you. So is Master Ito. I think I must have talked about you too much.”

“Harry.” Ron’s voice was very low, and shaking somewhat. Harry looked back at him. “What do you mean ‘okay’?”

“You asked me to leave you alone, so I will.”

“You aren’t… You want to leave me alone?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Ron glared and directed his eyes back down at his plate. He didn’t say another word for the rest of dinner, while Hermione launched into tales about her trip to France that had both Harry and Neville asking questions even as they stood up and headed towards Gryffindor Tower.

“It sounds great, Hermione. I wonder if Merlin would let me visit sometime. Maybe even next summer.”

Neville sighed wistfully as they started up the Grand Staircase. “Gran would never let me go. She hardly lets me out of her sight during the holidays and she’s not one for travel.”

“Maybe she’d be okay with you coming with Merlin and me? I mean… you can’t have better protection than the Eternal Man, can you?”

Ron shoved between Harry and Neville roughly, pushing past them. Harry caught himself against the banister but Neville would have fallen backwards and toppled down the stairs if not for a hand reaching out of thin air and catching him. Several students around them screamed, but Hermione, Ron, and Neville were all three used to Harry’s invisibility cloak and didn’t have the same reaction. Aurora pulled the cloak off and came into full view, her wand pointed at Ron.

“Do not,” she said through gritted teeth, “Do that again.”

“Aurora, its fine.”

“It’s not.” But, she put her wand away. She looked at Neville, who was straightening his robes. “Are you okay, Longbottom Scion?”

Neville’s head jerked up and he peered at her closely, then relaxed. “Fine, Lady Bellerose.”

“You know one another?” Harry asked, floored.

“Never met.” Neville said cheerfully. He didn’t offer any other explanation, and Harry figured he’d get it out of Aurora later so didn’t ask.

“Who are you?” Ron demanded. “You can’t just… just be here. Hogwarts is supposed to be protected!”

“Aurora is my personal guard,” Harry said, “And has full permission to be here.”

“Why do you need a guard?” Ron asked.

Harry didn’t say anything. Aurora merely glared at the boy, before looking at Harry.

“The Deputy Headmistress has asked that you be examined by the school’s healer. Since they’re worried, I agreed to escort you there. I believe Hiro will be on hand, as well.”

“Okay. I’ll see you back in the Tower, okay?” Harry said to Hermione and Neville, who both nodded and didn’t ask questions.

“Why do you get a guard? And why does Pomfrey want to examine you? What’s going on? Tell me, Potter.” Ron reached out to grab Harry and ended up with Aurora’s wand in his face again.

“I said do not. You don’t get to touch him without permission.”

“He’s not so special, you know. He doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“He is entitled to this and more.” Aurora said firmly. “You don’t even realize who he is do you? Put it together, boy!”

“He’s the Duke of Gryffindor.” Neville said, looking bored. “Haven’t you studied the old family trees, Ron? There’s only one line still around that descends from Godric Gryffindor.”

“What does that mean, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I’ll explain later, Hermione, but I apparently have an appointment.”

“Okay. It’s really good to see you, Harry. I was worried.”

“I’m sorry I worried you. I’ll explain that later, too, okay?”

“Come along, Harry.” Aurora said. “Best not to keep everyone waiting.”

Hermione offered him a small smile, and Neville gave him a larger grin. Ron shook his head in disgust and started climbing the stairs again, stomping up them in a way that reminded Harry forcibly of his cousin Dudley. All at once, he could see all the ways Ron was similar to Dudley. It twisted his stomach, and he was quiet all the way to the Hospital Wing.

 

Pomfrey was waiting, just as Aurora had said, along with Professor McGonagall and Master Ito. Aurora stepped back to stand by the door, while McGonagall moved quickly to Harry’s side. For a second, Harry thought she might hug him like Hermione had and his body went tense, but instead she stopped just short of touching him and clasped her hands behind her back.

“Mr. Potter.” McGonagall said. She looked him up and down and pursed her lips together for a moment, as if she were lost for words. She settled on, “I’m glad to see you. We were… concerned for your well-being.”

“Why?” Harry asked curiously. Pomfrey prodded him towards a bed and he sat down obediently. “No one has ever cared about how I spent the summer.”

“You’ve always been with your relatives. The Headmaster has had several people watching you for years.”

Harry frowned deeply. “That can’t be right.”

“You think he just abandoned you? Of course not. He’s kept a close eye on you, had someone right in the neighborhood.”

“But…” Harry trailed off and looked over at Master Ito, who was looking as furious as Harry had ever seen him. For a moment, Harry was afraid Ito was going to summon his sword and declare war right there.

“Am I to understand,” Master Ito said, speaking slowly, “That Albus Dumbledore knew about Hadrian’s childhood and… allowed it?”

McGonagall frowned. “Knew what about Harry’s childhood?”

“Oh, for the love of Merlin, Minerva!” Pomfrey burst out. “It’s plain as day the boy was mistreated. I’ve tried to talk to Albus no less than six times about it. Harry is the shortest boy in his year, he’s always extremely thin when he returns to Hogwarts after staying with those wretched muggles, he never goes back on breaks, and everyone knows that Albus sent over a thousand letters inviting Harry to Hogwarts and eventually had to resort to sending Hagrid to get the boy directly.”

McGonagall’s lips pursed together. “They abused you. Those muggles he left you with abused you.” She spoke directly to Harry.

Harry nodded. McGonagall stared at him, her eyes narrowed, before she turned on heel and stalked towards the Hospital Wing’s doors.

“Minerva? Where on Earth are you going?”

“To curse Albus Dumbledore within an inch of his life! How dare he! Leaving one of my cubs with those awful people. I told him! I told him they were the worst kind of muggles. Why, if I could get them at the end of my wand…”

The doors shut behind her, cutting off the rest of McGonagall’s tirade. Master Ito had cocked his head to the side as he’d watched her stomp off and seemed bemused.

“I should go offer her the use of my sword.” he said.

Pomfrey snorted, and then covered her mouth with one hand. She used her other hand to point a finger at Ito and poke him in the chest. “Watch your mouth! There’s a child present.”

“What?” Harry asked, completely oblivious. Ito looked even more amused, but Pomfrey poked him in the chest again and he shut his mouth.

“Never you mind, Harry, never you mind.” She stood up straight and raised her wand. “Best we get these diagnostics out of the way. You’re in much better health than you usually are at the start of September. You’ve been taking nutrient potions?”

“Since his birthday. I brew them myself.” Ito explained. “One with each meal.”

“Good. We’ll get you back on track before the year is out. Expect a few growth spurts in the coming months. Your father was a tall one.”

“Yes,” Aurora agreed, joining them. She reached out and ruffled Harry’s hair. He knocked her hand away and glared. “But, then, Lily Potter was five feet nothing in heels. He takes after his mother more than you would guess.”

“Always did have her eyes.” Pomfrey muttered. “She wanted to be a Healer, you know. She was studying in here every night and pestering me with questions. She had a real talent for it.”

“Harry has asked to start learning the Healing Arts,” Hiro Ito said. “He shows great promise. Perhaps he’d like lessons with you on the subject, as well? Much of what I know is based in parselmagic. He should know the basics as well.”

“I’d like that.” Pomfrey agreed, smiling softly at Harry. He beamed back.

“Me, too, Madam Pomfrey.”

“Oh, none of that. Call me Poppy, dear.”

 

Harry had barely entered the Gryffindor Common Room when Hermione pounced on him. She dragged him over to a corner where Neville was sitting. Ron was there, too, but Harry chose to ignore him.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Harry Potter, so you better start talking.” Hermione said sternly as she shoved him into a chair.

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, okay. I mean, the really short story is I woke up in the middle of the night and Merlin was just in my bedroom back at the Dursleys’.”

“I thought wizards weren’t supposed to be able to find you there. Dumbledore had wards, right?”

“Yes, but he’s Merlin, isn’t he? He said it took him a while to find me. He said that he had felt me call the Sword of Gryffindor that night in the Chamber. I guess he started looking for me then.”

“Why?” Ron interrupted. “And how did he even know?”

Harry shifted. He was tempted to ignore Ron completely, but he had to explain that bit anyway. “The Sword of Gryffindor has only carried that name since Godric Gryffindor carried it. Before that, it went by a different name. Its original owner was Arthur Pendragon.”

Ron stared and Neville’s mouth dropped open. Hermione’s nose wrinkled up. “King Arthur? Isn’t that… well, I would say wasn’t he a myth but I rather thought Merlin was too.”

“No, he was a wizard that lived over a thousand years ago. He was chosen by Lady Magic to be the King of Avalon, the magical realm here on Earth.” Harry tapped his fingers on the desk. He knew this story by heart now. “Lady Magic created Avalon, so that magicals would have a safe place away from non-magicals, and she chose Arthur to be the King, and his line to rule. She gifted him with Excalibur as a sign of his divine right to rule. Except, a lot of assholes didn’t like that She favored him so much and they started a war that eventually claimed the lives of Arthur and six of his seven sons.”

“That’s not right. All of King Arthur’s children were killed in the fire that destroyed the Castle at Camelot. Everyone knows that.” Ron interrupted. “Otherwise, Arthur’s son would have inherited the throne and we’d still have a ruler.”

Harry shook his head. “No, Merlin saved Arthur’s youngest son Thomas. He exhausted his own magic getting Thomas out of Camelot, but Thomas was just a toddler. He was just barely two, so he couldn’t rule. Lady Magic came to Merlin and told him to protect Arthur’s line and that one day she would choose another to take up the throne. That’s why they call Arthur the Once and Future King. Because he would come again, reincarnated. Thomas lived in secret, and when he married he chose to take his wife’s name. He became Thomas Gryffindor and had one son: Godric. Godric was able to carry Excalibur, but ultimately did not take the throne of Avalon. In the years that followed, Avalon began to deteriorate. That’s why there’re so few magical communities now. It used to be a vast realm that lay parallel to the muggle world, but it faded. It’s theorized that if the King doesn’t return within the next generation or two, then magic will leave us altogether.”

“That’s why blood status is so important.” Ron broke in again. “Because of how Muggles came into being. They were once magical people, like us, but Lady Magic stole all the magic from those that were involved with the plot to kill King Arthur. All of their descendants are cursed to be without magic forever, and when a pureblood marries a muggle and has children, they bring that curse into their own Family Magic.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s a misconception. Muggles always existed, even before Avalon was created. Muggles existed before Lady Magic chose to start teaching humans how to access the innate magic that lives within the Earth. She cursed a specific line to be without magic; not all Muggles carry that curse and Merlin says the line she did curse has died off. So that curse doesn’t even exist anymore.”

“Well, of course you’d believe that. Your mother was a mudblood.”

Hermione gasped. “Ron! How could you say that horrible word?”

Ron rolled his eyes, “It’s just a word, Hermione. It doesn’t have power unless you give it power.”  
Hermione glared and said. “Says the boy that still can’t say Voldemort.” It made Ron flinch and Hermione smiled smugly at him for it. Harry laughed and Neville hid his own grin behind his hand.

“It doesn’t matter that my mother was muggleborn,” Harry emphasized the word, just slightly, “Because it isn’t like she’s the one teaching me this. Merlin told me that Mordred’s line is dead and I believe him. Besides. Technically, my mother’s grandmother was a witch, so she was a halfblood. When I come of age, I’m going to inherit two estates from my mother that have been dormant for years. Merlin is pretty sure that my cousin’s children will also be magical.”

Hermione’s head tilted to one side. “I thought you said magic was leaving us. I assume that’s why we have squibs in the first place, right? So why would magic return to your mother’s family?”

Harry sighed and scratched his head. “Merlin thinks that magic will return en masse, after I come of age. Potentially, adult squibs might even gain magic but it’s more likely that they will just bear magical children.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and she shot a look over at Neville, who was also sitting up straighter in his chair. “Oh, he thinks, he thinks that you’re –” She clamped her mouth shut and looked around, nervously. “You probably want to keep it a secret.”

Ron sat forward, eyes narrowing. “Keep what a secret? What does Merlin think?”

“I don’t actually have a choice in the matter. The goblins are releasing the results of the tests they had done as evidence that Merlin is who he claims he is. Part of that will include the fact that he’s currently acting as Regent of the Pendragon Estate, which Merlin has always held the Regency to, but also the fact that he’s going to be acting as my Regent for the estates I currently am set to inherit. The goblins are not going to remain quiet on… they just aren’t willing to remain quiet any longer.”

“What does Merlin think?” Ron repeated, his voice was low and there was a tell-tale quiver to it that told Harry all he needed to know about the state of Ron’s temper.

Harry took a deep breath. “Merlin is pretty sure that when I turn seventeen and go through my magical maturation that the Lady Magic will appear to me and demand I take up the legacy of Arthur Pendragon.”

Ron stared. “You think that you are the future King of Avalon?”

Harry shrugged. “Merlin thinks so. Hiro Ito thinks so, and the goblins think so. I don’t find carrying the Sword of Gryffindor to be the burden that by all accounts even Godric considered it. Godric rarely wore the sword and only took it into battle twice. When I carried it in the Chamber, it felt natural in my hand. I could summon it even now. Merlin made me call it to me several times over the summer, and it always answered me.”

Ron laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Are you really that conceited? Harry, your mother was a mudblood, no matter what you’ve been told. Your blood isn’t pure enough to be my king and Merlin is just setting you up for disappointment. He’s filling your head with lies and using you.”

Harry shrugged again. “I don’t really want to be king. Merlin’s taught me some about it over the summer, and it’s a lot of responsibility. I already have to defeat a Dark Lord, and I was kinda hoping that after I do that I could just… live quietly.”

Hermione giggled. “I don’t think you’re meant for a quiet life, Harry. And, for what it’s worth,” she paused to throw a dirty look at Ron, “I think you’d make a great king.”

“It doesn’t matter because he’s not going to be king.” Ron said through gritted teeth, his entire face flushing red enough to match his hair.

Harry held out his left hand and hissed the spell that revealed his Family Ring. The golden dragon-crest of the Pendragon family was still gleaming atop the Gryffindor ruby. “When I claimed the Gryffindor Family Ring at Gringotts, the Pendragon crest appeared. I cannot ascend the throne until I’m seventeen, but I am already Prince Hadrian of Avalon whether I want to be or not, Ron.”

Ron was shaking with temper and started to raise his wand. Hermione and Neville both beat him to it, their wand tips scant inches from Ron’s nose.

“Don’t you dare try to curse my king, Ronald Weasley.” Neville said in a quiet, deadly whisper. “The Longbottom Family is an honorable one and we’ve been allied with the Gryffindor Family since before Hogwarts stood. If Harry says he’s the reincarnation of Arthur Pendragon, then I believe him, and I’ll curse you dead before you’ve finished raising your wand.”

“Who are you fooling, Longbottom?” Ron laughed. “You’re a useless lump and you always have been.”

“Are you going to call me a lump and a mudblood, too, Ron?” Hermione demanded. “Because you’re dumber than I thought if you think I’m going to sit by and let you curse Harry. He’s always been a better friend to me than you have.”

“He’s bonkers,” Ron said with a shake of his head. “You all are. You can’t announce something like that in the Prophet, Harry. They’ll laugh you right out of Hogwarts.”

“If the opinion of others could make me leave Hogwarts, Ron, I would have left last year when everyone was convinced I was the Heir of Slytherin. It’s a good thing I’ve never let such a thing bother me, or else your sister would be dead.”

With that Harry stood and left the table. He found his new rooms and shut the door behind himself.

So much for his friendship with Ron Weasley.


	4. Lessons in Boggarts (and Other Things)

Harry’s wand vibrated and an alarm went off in his head, gently waking him for his morning meditation.  He showered and dressed quickly, before leaving his private rooms and then Gryffindor Tower itself.  He didn’t want to be late to Master Ito’s.

Aurora, dressed in a pale blue robe that lightened her gray eyes, was waiting for him patiently.  “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” Harry said. “What about you?  Were your rooms suitable?”

“The suite Adelaide suggested for me is lovely.  Dobby did an excellent job airing it out, and it will suit me wonderfully.  The charm she suggested worked as well, obviously.”

Harry rolled his eyes.  Adelaide had taught Aurora a series of charms that apparently used to be widely used by mothers monitoring their children in other rooms.  They’d fallen out of favor with the creation of magical objects that served the purpose just as well and were less taxing on one’s own magic.  One monitored Harry’s general health, while another alerted Aurora to when he awoke in his own room so she could be ready to accompany him for the day.

“I was going to get you before I went down to the dungeon, but I’m fairly sure I could have made it there on my own.  I’ve done it dozens of times before.”

“I’m sure you have, but you know the rules.  I agreed to leave you on your own in Gryffindor Tower, and you agreed that I could accompany you otherwise.”

“I know.” Harry sighed.  All the same, he didn’t like the idea of a body guard.

“Did you remember to clear your mind last night?” Aurora asked him.  Harry made a face, but nodded.

They’d found out over the summer that meditation was not something Harry was particularly good at.  Despite having over a month of practice, Harry still had not managed to access his magical core.  It was frustrating, especially since Hiro had let it slip that he had been taught the skill as a very young boy.  The fact that Harry couldn’t grasp a skill that small children mastered was humiliating.

Master Ito let them into his quarters.  He bowed deeply to Aurora, and greeted her first.  “Good day, _ojousan_.  I trust you slept well?”

“Yes, thank you.  The tea blend you prepared did wonders to help me settle and I slept very soundly.”

Master Ito nodded.  He had a slight, pleased smile when he turned to Harry.  “Prince Hadrian, good morning to you, as well.”

“Good morning, _iemoto_.”  Harry said, a little nervously.  He bowed deeper than usual and held his breath.  Harry had asked Merlin what a student like Harry would traditionally call Ito in Japan, and Merlin had been the one to suggest the formal _iemoto_.

Harry’s eyes flickered up to meet Ito’s, and the grand master inclined his head in approval.  Harry exhaled in relief, and stepped away.  He gave Ito and Aurora a moment to converse between themselves, and crossed over to the warm nest that Ito had set up for Kiyohime.  He stroked a small ridge he’d found at the back of her head; it was invisible to the human eye but Harry could feel the hard line of cartilage beneath his fingers.  It was a spot that Kiyohime loved to have petted.

“ _How do you like Hogwarts_?”

“ _It’s nice.”_ Kiyohime answered. “ _The magic is warm here.  The Castle enjoys my presence. I think she must miss her protector.”_

Harry hadn’t felt bad about killing Slytherin’s basilisk until he’d met Kiyohime.  Now, he wondered if he should have tried to reason with it.  Perhaps he might have been able to break the hold Tom Riddle had upon it.

“ _I’m sorry I took her protector from her.”_

_“You did what you had to do.”_

“Enough stalling, Prince Hadrian,” _Ito-iemoto_ said.  He put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and turned him towards the fireplace and their meditation pillows.  “Sit.  We’re going to try something different this morning.”

Harry obediently sat, and then looked at Ito expectantly.

“I want you to picture yourself somewhere peaceful… sitting by the Black Lake.  You are on a rock, the sky overhead is grey, and the air is slightly chilly.  You watch as the lake’s surface ripples with the wind.”

Harry closed his eyes.  The picture came to him easily; he’d often sat by the lake to think and had spent the summer looking out across the lake from his bedroom window.  He imagined what the lake would look like if he were to go down there now.  The sun hadn’t peaked over the mountain tops yet, so the lake itself would be dark and inky black.  The ripples along the surface would gleam slightly silver.   He would be able to hear the owls in the owlery; they always made such noise that it carried across the Hogwarts grounds, and a few would probably still be swooping overhead for a last minute hunt before daybreak.  The air around the lake always smelled salty, and somewhat fishy because of the squid.

“Hold onto the peaceful sensation of sitting by the lake, but close your eyes against the image.  You are still sitting by the lake, but you cannot see it.”

That was harder, but Harry managed to let go of the image of the lake and the pink lines of dawn creeping from the other side of the mountains without losing the sound of the owls or the salty smell of the water.  He let himself drift there, and slowly let go of the hooting owls and the salt-smell, and then he was just floating in darkness.

He fell into himself and crashed down into a different kind of lake.  This was a turbulent well of magic, deeper than Harry could ever have imagined and a mesh of color: shining lime green, with currents of purple and red and gold and white.  He could hear the bright sound of a phoenix’s song, and see a fog of golden light that hovered protectively over his magic.  Harry instantly recognized the fog and its gentle, warm aura as the touch of his mother.  He’d found his core, at last.

Harry let himself dive into the rich pool of magic.  It felt familiar, the way that his wand did, but there were parts that didn’t feel familiar at all.  There were two pools, branching off from the main well.  One felt warm and safe and was a deep, dark blue in color.  The other was black with lines of sickly green and puss yellow.  The golden light Harry associated with his mother had cut the pool off from the main well like a closed channel, and it repelled Harry from the dark pool when he tried to touch it.  When he tried to touch the pool again, because Harry was nothing if not stubborn and prone to poor life decisions, the golden light threw him from his meditation and gave him a terrible headache in punishment.

Harry blinked and rubbed at his forehead, wincing. “Ow.”

Ito _-iemoto_ was immediately at his side, kneeling down and casting diagnostic spells Harry’s way.  “What happened?”

“I finally accessed my core.”

At Ito’s prompting, Harry explained what he’d encountered.  Ito seemed mostly concerned with the two smaller pools and the golden light.

“I would be curious to know if the golden light is, in fact, your mother’s magic.” Ito said. “And if it is her magic, is it left over from her sacrifice when you were a baby, or a part of the amulet that Merlin gave you that has somehow attached itself to your core.”

“It doesn’t feel like the amulet, even though it definitely feels like _her_.  More angry, though, and defensive.”

“Tell me more about the pools.  Did they feel like part of you, part of your magic?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know.  The blue one, maybe.  It was nice to touch.  Warm, but I didn’t get anything from it like I do from the amulet.  The other one… I hope not.  It’s sick.  Like the magic itself is sick.”

Ito made a humming noise of acknowledgement. “You did well today.  Go, now.  I will see you for your Potions class.  Do not expect favoritism.”

“I would _never_.” Harry gave Ito a large grin, climbing to his feet.  He ducked out of the room with Hiro still chuckling behind him.  Aurora and Kiyohime followed him out, and Harry paused long enough to raise an eyebrow at the snake.

“ _I wish to explore more of the castle_.”

“ _Did Merlin and Hiro cast those protections on you? I don’t want any of the older students trying to hurt you.”_

_“I will be fine.  You should worry more about them.”_

_“Never. You aren’t going to hurt a child. Not even a stupid wizard child that deserves it.”_

_“Hurt, no.  Terrify, perhaps.”_

_“That you can do.  Have fun.  Try not to scare the first years, at least.”_

_“Spoil my fun.”_

 

 

Harry pulled his invisibility cloak out of his bottomless bag as he made his way from Ito _-iemoto_ ’s quarters towards the Great Hall, and handed it over to Aurora.  She wished to largely go unseen by the students, and it was the general assumption that being hidden would keep her from being a distraction in classes as well.  They stopped long enough for Harry to pull on his school robes over his trousers and shirt. 

“Don’t forget your tie,” Aurora chided.

Harry made a face, scrunching up his nose, but put the tie on.  He let it hang loosely, rather than knotting it right away, and Aurora let him get away with it.

Harry hated ties and he had spent his previous two years at Hogwarts avoiding wearing his as much as possible.  He’d lost points almost continually for it, but didn’t care.  Ties made him feel like he was about to choke at any given minute, and he hated the sensation.  The silk ties that Merlin had bought him, along with various other things that had been tailored and spelled to fit, were an improvement from the scratchy one he’d worn before, but not by much.  Harry still shied away from a lot of what Merlin had purchased for him.  He preferred his jeans and soft sweaters over the tailored slacks and expensive shirts Merlin urged him to wear.  The wealth and status that Harry had found himself possessing, almost overnight, still made him uncomfortable and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself on the occasions when Merlin forced him into the nicer clothing.  He had worried that sitting would wrinkle and ruin the fabric, and every inkwell loomed as a potential disaster.  He hadn’t been able to relax, and Merlin had finally let it go for the time being, much to Harry’s relief.

Hermione was waiting at the Gryffindor table, along with a few other students that were early morning-risers.  Harry sat down across from her.

“Good morning.”

Hermione mumbled at him from around the piece of toast she was nibbling at.  Most of her attention was focused on the piece of parchment before her.  Harry tilted his head to try and read it.

“Oh, it’s your time table.  Great, did you grab mine?”

Hermione reached into her bag and pulled it out.  “I think they made a mistake, though.  I thought you signed up for Care of Magical Creatures and Divination?”

“Merlin talked with McGonagall last night and got me into different subjects.  He told me he would.  I’m taking Arithimacy and Ancient Runes now, along with a number of private studies.”

“You won’t have any extra classes with Ron.”

“Just Care of Magical Creatures,” Harry shrugged. “But, he’s kind of a prat, so that’s okay.”

“What private studies are you doing?”

“Hmmm, quite a bit.  I need to be prepared for the inheritance I will receive when I turn seventeen, and that’s only four years from now.  It’s been explained to me that I’ll be too busy for any kind of actual _career_ , so to speak, but I will have a lot of responsibilities and need the skills to manage my estates.  Even if you don’t count the whole _king_ thing, there’s a lot of them; I’m inheriting four estates from my father’s line, two from my mother, and right now I’m set to inherit the Regency for the House of Black because I’m the heir and the current Lord is in disgrace.”

“Sirius Black.”

Harry nods. “It’s complicated, and I’m not certain that the Prophet is reporting all the details.  I know from my family grimoire that Sirius Black was named my Godfather when I was born, and a woman named Alice Longbottom was my Godmother.  I think she was Neville’s mum.  I’m not sure what happened, but I think she must have died, because Neville lives with his grandmother now.  The grimoire says that Sirius Black was magically adopted into the House of Potter when he was sixteen, which means he _couldn’t_ have betrayed my parents.  When they died, my dad was the Patriarch of the Potter Family, because my grandfather had died months before.  If Sirius Black betrayed his Patriarch, then the Family Magic would have taken his magic away and he would have become a squib.”

“But that didn’t happen.”

“No.  I’m not sure what it means, and I haven’t talked to Merlin about it.  He’s not fond of the Black family, and he won’t tell me why.  I think he wants to spare me, because I’m the Heir of the Black Family.”

“You should talk with him about it soon.  Right now, he has Regency doesn’t he?  So if Sirius Black is innocent, he’s magically obligated to see him freed of charges.  Now, what private studies?”

Harry chuckled. “Magical history, magical and muggle law, economics, accounting, dueling, warding, and specialized magics. For me, that’s parselmagic.  What else? Oh, theoretical magic, rune casting, healing, and muggle and magical politics.”

“Harry, there’s not enough time for all of that.”  Hermione’s hand unconsciously went to her throat and she clutched at something beneath her shirt.  Harry narrowed her eyes on her.

“There’s a magical room in Merlin’s quarters that leads to a time suspension field.  Merlin spent several days sneaking into Hogwarts over the summer to prepare it.  When I’m in that room, it’s like no time passes on the outside.  Merlin wanted me to ask you if you wanted to join in on lessons.  Except for parselmagic, obviously, but you might be gifted in one of the specialized magics too.”

“Of course I do!  Oh, but.” Her face fell.

“What?”

“I’m not sure that I’ll have the time.  I’m already taking extra classes and, you can’t tell anyone this but… McGonagall got me special permission to use a time turner to keep up in them all.”

“You can always just use the room to study and keep caught up in your other classes.  It’s less dangerous than a time-turner, as there’s no chance that you’ll encounter your past self.”

“I’ll definitely come along, even if I can’t partake in the lessons.  Oh, I wish I had known about this before.  There’s so many books I’ll need to order, and the post charges are so expensive when you order very many.”

“Don’t worry about it. I need books, too, and I’m sending Dobby. Just make me a list and I’ll combine it with my own.”

“Dobby?”

“The crazy elf from last year? It’s a long story, but he’s now a part of my magical family.  It’s kind of complicated, but we’re working on it.”

Hermione nods. “Okay. Let me just –”

She pulled out a new piece of parchment and a quill from her bag, and started scribbling like mad.  Harry just shook his head and started gathering a plate of food.  He eyed Hermione’s virtually untouched plate and nudged her. “Don’t forget to eat. At least one more piece of toast and some bacon.”

She rolled her eyes, but did make a point to finish her toast.

Ron managed to arrive at breakfast –and start shoving food into his mouth– just as the post started to arrive.  His table manners were appalling, but Harry chose to ignore him as the Daily Prophet was dropped off in front of his plate.  He wasn’t entirely sure that he was ready for everything that was about to come, but he squared his shoulders and vowed to meet it head on.

It didn’t take long for the whispers to start.  Students from every House were sending Harry looks, and half of the teachers were as well.  Harry carefully kept his expression as calm as possible, and kept eating.  Ginny Weasley sat down beside Harry, with the Prophet in one hand.

“Is this true?”

Harry glanced at the main headline which proclaimed **LEGENDARY MERLIN PROVES TO BE IMMORTAL TAKES HARRY POTTER AS HIS WARD AND SERVES AS REGENT. GRINGOTTS CONFIRMS BOY WHO LIVED AS ARTHUR PENDRAGON’S HEIR**.

“I haven’t actually read the article,” Harry said, “But my guardian did when he approved it for publication.  He assured me that it was accurate.”

“So it’s true. You’re a prince?” Ginny asked.  Harry honestly hadn’t thought she could look at him _more_ adoringly than she had the year before, but somehow she managed.  He hoped she didn’t send him another valentine.  That had been embarrassing for them both.

“Technically speaking, I am Prince Hadrian, Duke of Gryffindor, yes.  But, I still prefer to go by Harry.”

“Who _wouldn’t_ ,” Hermione muttered. “Hadrian? _Really_?”

“You haven’t even heard the whole thing.  It’s horrible; I refuse to even say it.”

“What’s this crap about changes coming to Hogwarts?” Ron demanded. “Isn’t it bad enough you’re ruining traditions like the sorting?”

Harry frowns and picks up his paper again.  Under the fold, there was another, smaller article.  When had Merlin had _time_ to be interviewed by the Prophet?

“Merlin didn’t tell me he was doing an interview.  I mean, we’ve talked about all of this, but I didn’t know he was going to make it so public right away.”

Hermione looks up from her book. “What are you talking about?”

“As the Duke of Gryffindor, I technically own Hogwarts.  The Hogwarts Charter wasn’t being followed by the Board of Governors, so I sacked them all.  We’re getting a new Potion’s teacher and a new History of Magic teacher this year, but most of the changes are going to take place next year.  New professors will be hired, and new classes are going to be offered.  Also, the core teachers –McGonagall, Flitwick, and whoever teaches Potions and DADA– are going to be given what amounts to interns: people that are working towards their Masteries who will teach the first through third year students.  The classes aren’t going to be segregated anymore, either.  We’re going to shove Hogwarts into competition with the rest of the world by force if need be.”

“You sacked the Board of Governors?” Neville asked, leaning forward. “Those creeps like Lucius Malfoy that put Hagrid in Azkaban last year?”

Harry nodded. “I haven’t created a new Board yet.  We sent out invitations, but I won’t get any responses for a week or two at least.”

“What do you mean the classes won’t be segregated?” Hermione asked, with a frown.

“Currently, we only share classes with one other house at a time: Potions and DADA with the Slytherins, Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws, Herbology and Charms with the Hufflepuffs.  In the future, that won’t happen.  Any given class will be a mixture of different houses.”

“Why?” Ron demanded. “What’s the good of that? I like Hogwarts the way it is!”

“Hogwarts is outdated, and the House system promotes divisions within the school.  When you graduate and get a job, you’re going to have to work with people that are from other Houses, and even other schools.  You should learn how to do that early on.  I want Hogwarts to be united, a safe place for learning.”

“That’s bollocks and you shouldn’t have the power to change Hogwarts. You’re a student here.” Ron said stubbornly.

“Well, technically Merlin is serving as Regent and he’ll be the one implementing these changes and seeing them through until after I graduate.  Even after I turn seventeen and claim the title, it’s been agreed with the Goblins that Merlin will oversee the governing of Hogwarts as long as I’m a student here.  But, he talks with me a lot about it.  It’ll be different, but I think in the long run it will be better for the students and the school.”

“How many teachers will you be hiring?” Hermione interrupted when it looked like Ron was going to keep arguing.

“Merlin isn’t sure.  It depends on how many and what classes end up being offered, and if any of the teachers have the ability to teach more than one class.  Merlin is looking for permanent placements, _including_ a permanent DADA professor.  He’s hoping that he can break the curse before the end of this year and keep Lupin on to be honest.  Lupin’s credentials are _fantastic_.  He’s taught school in the Americas for the last several years at the Salem Institute.”

“Why did he come to Hogwarts?”

Harry shrugged. Merlin hadn’t told him that, though he suspected Merlin knew the answer. “Maybe he just wanted to come back home.  Lupin attended Hogwarts, like most of the other professors. He was a Gryffindor, so that’s why McGonagall made him Head of Gryffindor since she’s going to be sponsoring the first years instead this year.  In fact, the only teachers that weren’t instructed at Hogwarts that are teaching this year are Sinistra, Merlin, and Master Ito.  Sinistra attended a school in France.”

“Beauxbatons.” Hermione nodded. “I’ve read about it, and the other European school Durmstrang.”

Whatever Ron had intended to say to that was interrupted when Merlin stood up and cleared his throat.  Every student in the hall turned to look at him.

“Yesterday, when I came to Hogwarts, I awoke the Founders’ Portrait.”

Across from him, Hermione gasped.  Harry just kept looking up at Merlin.

“This awoke ancient magics in Hogwarts that allows the Castle herself to watch over her students.  Hogwarts can do what no prefect can do; she is capable of things none of the professors or even the headmaster is capable of: she can be everywhere at once.  As long as you are within her walls, there is not a single moment when Hogwarts is not watching you, and now she can make herself heard.  She can give points for good behavior, and take points for bad behavior.  If you curse a classmate, she will know and you will lose points.  If you say the word _mudblood_ , she will know and you will lose points.  If you cheat on your homework, she will know and you will lose points.  If you take the time to help a lost first year, she will know and you will _gain_ points.  See how this works?”

No one spoke.  Merlin looked out at them all for a long minute, silent, and then resumed speaking.

“Last night, Hogwarts watched you all and this morning she reported back to me.  I have a list here of every infraction she witnessed that would have lost the houses points, and every action that would have earned them.  Now, since classes had not technically resumed yet, these have not gone into effect.  You should be thankful, because every House would be in the negatives.  The word mudblood was said eighty-seven times last night.  It was said in every House.  Curiously, it was said _the most_ by the sixth year Ravenclaws.  Six of you cursed another student.  You will all have detention with me.  Your Heads of Houses will be letting you know when you can serve them.  As you go about your day, keep in mind that Hogwarts is watching you.  Please, enjoy your first day back.”

Merlin sat back down, and the Great Hall erupted with noise.

“You can’t do that!” Ron howled. “He can’t do that! That’s… That’s invading our privacy, that is!”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Neville said coolly.  “It’ll keep gits like Malfoy from cursing us while our backs are turned, and reduce the bullying that first years get from the older students.  It should even curtail Fred and George some, though I’m sure the Weasley twins will manage to find a way to get around the new rules.”

“Hogwarts likes them,” Harry admitted.  “They amuse her a great deal, and they’re rarely malicious.  Unless they do something to hurt another student, or something that she doesn’t approve of, they should be okay.”

“Harry, are you telling me that the Castle has _favorites_?”

“Of course she does, Hermione.  She’s actually far more sentient than anyone gives her credit for.  She isn’t organic, but she does have a personality and rather strong opinions.  I’m sure all the students will soon be learning where she stands.  The only voice she’s had before was through the Headmaster and the Sorting Hat.”

Hermione’s nose wrinkled.  “The Sorting Hat is a part of Hogwarts?”

“The magic that created them came from the same source, and they are deeply connected.  You’d be surprised by how much Hogwarts herself influenced where you were Sorted.”

 

 

Harry’s classes all seemed to fly by.

First was Transfiguration.  When Harry, Hermione, and Neville set out for class, Ron followed them out, still bitching about Hogwarts being used to “spy” on them by Merlin.  Harry ignored him, sitting down between those he _actually_ counted as friends.  Ron stopped in front of Harry’s desk and glared at him.

“Have you even been listening?”

“Of course I have been.  You’ve clearly inherited your mother’s volume and you’re hard to ignore.”

“Listen,” Ron started, but was interrupted when McGonagall swept into the room.

“Take a seat Mr. Weasley, so we can begin.

Ron sat, and McGonagall took her place at the front.

“Good morning, class, and welcome to third year Transfiguration.  Third year begins your journey towards Human Transformation, which is covered in the sixth and seventh years if you choose to pursue Transfiguration in NEWT study.  Most of this year will be covering the theories and formulas that will take you through the next few years.  I will warn you now that there will only be one practical study class a week, compared to your previous years of two practical studies and one day of theory each week.  This year will be difficult for many of you.  If you wish to pass this class with an Exceeds Expectations or an Outstanding, you will have to be diligent in your study.  I believe you all capable of it, if you put in the effort.”

Hermione raised her hand and McGonagall nodded at her.  “I read over the summer that it is illegal in Great Britain for underage witches and wizards to learn or attempt the Animagus transformation, but that isn’t the case in most other countries.  Why is it illegal here? Because of difficulty?”

McGonagall nodded. “Years ago, long before I was even a student here at Hogwarts, the seventh year NEWT class was designed around the pursuit and completion of the Animagus transformation.  Does anyone besides Miss. Granger know what the Animagus transformation is?”

Harry raised his hand immediately.  “It’s the ability to turn one’s self into an animal.  The journey is a long process filled with meditation which serves as a way to discover one’s form.  Once the form is discovered, there’s a spell to be done.  The first time, the spell must be vocalized but after a successful change the spell becomes something that can be done wandlessly and silently.  It becomes second nature.”

“Correct, Mr. Potter, twenty points to Gryffindor.  The Ministry began registering Animagi in the late seventeenth century, and as of 1901 it was deemed that it would be dangerous for underage witches and wizards to attempt the transformation.  That same year, the Ministry banned it from being taught in any school in Great Britain.  Hogwarts is a private institution, but even it must comply with the law.”

“But, _why_ , Professor? _Why_ is it illegal?”

“I don’t know, Miss. Granger.  Officially, the Ministry states that it is simply too dangerous, but under proper supervision the Animagus transformation is not at all dangerous.  There are _many_ specialized arts that have become restricted in the last century.  Very few choose to seek out these arts after they complete school, and as such very few complete the Animagus transformation.  As of this year, there are only thirteen registered Animagi in Great Britain, myself included.”

“Professor?” Ron raised his hand, “Why did you study the transformation if it is illegal?”

“It is illegal for _underage_ students, Mr. Weasley, and I studied the transformation as part of my Mastery.  I did not break the law, and I don’t appreciate the implication that I would do so.” McGonagall said frostily.  “While the Animagus ability is not a requirement for a Transfiguration Mastery in Britain, it _is_ a requirement for an International Mastery.  After Hogwarts, I spent much of my time studying in Egypt, where Human Transfiguration was practiced excessively in the distant past.  I confess, my time in Egypt left a mark on me and is perhaps why my form is what it is.”

“Can we see your form, Professor?” Harry asked, eagerly.  Merlin had never pursued an Animagus form, and had little interest in it.  Harry thought it was grand.  He’d seen McGonagall’s form before, at the start of first year, but that had been before he could appreciate how _rare_ an Animagus was.

McGonagall nodded briskly and moved to the center of the room, so she was clearly visible by all.  In a blink of an eye, she had turned into a cat and jumped up onto Harry’s desk.  He laughed and petted her, and she swatted a paw at him for the sheer cheek of it.

“You’re an Egyptian Mau, aren’t you? That’s what you meant by Egypt marking you.”

The cat nodded and then hopped over to Hermione.  She walked around, so that every student got a good look at her, hopping from desk to desk.  Eventually, she returned to the front of the room and transformed back into her human form.

“Wands away, quills out.” She commanded and waved her hand.  Harry and the others scrambled to comply.

 

After Transfiguration, they all made their way down to the dungeons for Potions.  Neville confessed to Harry on the way there that he’d always enjoyed watching his grandmother brew growing up, and that Snape had nearly ruined the subject for him.  Potions was easily Harry’s least-favorite class but he found himself actually excited to attend the class for the first time in his Hogwarts career.  It would be interesting to study something other than meditation and parselmagic from Ito _-iemoto_.

The classroom was set up differently from its usual formation.  Two long, U-shaped tables had replaced their usual desks, the second table tiered higher than the first.  In the middle of the U-shape, easily seen by all, was a large cauldron.  Ito was at the desk, where Kiyohime coiled.  They were hissing back and forth to each other, and Harry wanted to laugh at what he heard.  He was pretty sure using a snake to get a read on the students’ emotions was cheating.

The Slytherins filtered in and almost all of them took seats along the back tier.  When everyone was seated, Ito stood up and cleared his throat.

“My name is Grand Master Hiro Ito.  As the Headmaster explained to you last night at the Welcoming Feast, Professor Snape has received a last-minute offer to research abroad.  As research and potion invention is Professor Snape’s primary interest in potion-making, rather than teaching, he chose to pursue this opportunity and I have agreed to temporarily take his place until another Professor can be found.  My students traditionally call me _sensei_.  You may refer to me that way, or as Master Ito.  Are there any questions?”

Malfoy raised his hand. “What was the opportunity Professor Snape took? Will he be back?”

“No, Professor Snape will not be returning.  A rare clutch of magical snake eggs were found in South America.  Professor Snape and three others have agreed to help the snakes hatch and raise them.  Their skin is a valuable potion’s ingredient that has not been available for many years, as this particular snake was thought to be extinct.  It is a very magically-demanding process to help the eggs hatch, and then each of the four Potions Masters will have to create bonds with the snakes.  He is undertaking a lifetime commitment to the snake, or snakes, that he takes under his care.”

Harry wondered if any of that was actually true.  He didn’t know what Dumbledore had done to convince Snape to leave so quickly and quietly, after all.

Another Slytherin raised their hand.  Harry couldn’t remember the boy’s first name, but his last name was Zabini.  He’d been the last one Sorted of their year. “Professor Snape has an International Mastery in Potions and is famous for having invented over a hundred potions _and_ improving the brewing process of countless others.  How do we know you have the same credentials?”

“An excellent question, Mr. Zabini.” Harry noted that the boy appeared somewhat disturbed at Ito’s familiarity with his name.  “I have not been officially rated by the International Conference of Wizards, simply because I was born before the ICW was created.  I have, however, been teaching students privately in Japan for the last five hundred years.  This will mark the first time I’ve taught students whose magic is not in the same vein as my own, however.”

“What do you mean by that?” Ron asked, voice sharp.

“I mean, Mr. Weasley, that my magic is inherently different from your own.  I am a Wild Mage and predominately only practice parselmagic.”

The room broke out in whispers, which Ito ignored.

“Because Potions requires very little spell work, I agreed that the differences in our magic would not impact my teaching ability.  As to the subject itself, I am first and foremost a Healer but to that degree have aided in the invention of several potions to assist my patients, amongst them the Draught of the Living Death and the wolfsbane potion. Are there any further questions? No? Good.

“Now, I have been perusing your previous professor’s notes and while you have certainly been tasked with brewing a wide variety of potions, I’ve noted a lack of basic knowledge.  For instance, Mr. Malfoy, what moon should Asphodel be harvested under in order for it to be its most potent in a Healing potion?”

Malfoy flushed.  “I don’t know, sir.”

“Anyone?”

Shakily, Neville raised a hand.

“Mr. Longbottom, please.”

“Erm. Asphodel must be harvested under a new moon for healing. Any other time, it is volatile and will turn anything into a poison.”

“Correct, twenty points to Gryffindor. Well done.  I called on Mr. Malfoy because Professor Snape regarded him as his most promising pupil in this year, and yet Mr. Malfoy could not answer me.”

“I just like plants, sir.” Neville said, flushing and sinking in his seat.

“Liking plants will make you a fine brewer, Mr. Longbottom.  Do you know why you should crush snake fangs rather than grind them?”

“No, sir.”

“Mr. Malfoy?”

“No, sir.”

“Anyone?” The class, even Hermione, remained silent.  Ito nodded.  “Like I said: a lacking of the basics.  In the future, you would do well to remember that crushing snake fangs will release any residue venom that might be lurking within the fangs.  Grinding them would just mix the venom with the powdery residue of the fangs, and your potion would still be made unstable by the venom.”

 

 

After Potions, they had a reprieve for lunch.  Harry, Hermione, and Neville were halfway back to the Great Hall when the Weasley Twins materialized on either side of Harry.  One threw his arms around Harry and Hermione shoulders, and the other hooked one skinny limb around Harry’s neck and the other around Neville’s 

“We can’t help but notice -”

“That ickle Ronnie’s friends aren’t keeping as close to him as normal.  Seems odd, doesn’t it Fred?”

“Why, yes, George it does. Has Prince Harry decided he’s too good for the Weasleys?”

“Not likely, Fred.  Seems more likely Ron’s put his foot in it.”

“Again,” the twins chorused as one.  Harry’s head spun slightly from their back and forth banter, and Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes.

“What’s ickle Ronnie done now?” One of the twins -Fred, unless they were calling each other by the wrong names again -asked, his face growing serious while the other twin still grinned, except with a glint to it that reminded Harry of Ito _-iemoto_ ’s smile… Pleased, but dangerous.

“He used foul language I’ve only ever heard from the mouth of Draco Malfoy.” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “At least Malfoy was only parroting what he’d heard from his slime-bag father.  I know _your_ parents have taught Ron better.”

The twins’ arms fell away, and they stopped walking.  The trio also stopped, turning to face them.  Fred looked grim, and George downright angry.

“He didn’t.”

“He did.”

“That bastard.”

“To you, Hermione?”

“Did that prat call your blood dirty?”

Hermione shook her head. “No… He said it about Harry’s mum.  Said Harry can’t be the Pendragon heir because his mother was a,” she bit at her lip and shrugged, “Well, that word he said.”

“I don’t know if that’s better,” Fred started.

“Or worse.” George finished.  “You’re right about one thing, Hermione.  Our dad taught us better.”

“We’ll have to remind him.”

The twins both smiled, wicked grins that stretched across their faces, and Harry _almost_ felt bad for Ron.  Almost.

“You have Defense yet?” George asked, as they started walking again.

“No.” Neville shook his head. “Transfiguration and Potions.”

“Lupin’s good.  I actually learned something and it’s only the first day.”

“Oh good.” Hermione smiled, pleased.  “It’ll be nice to have a Defense teacher that is up to par.  Especially after last year.”

“Lockhart was a fraud and a dunderhead.” Neville agreed. “I liked Quirrell better.”

“Quirrell had Voldemort hidden underneath his turban.  He made my scar hurt every day in Defense.” Harry objected, but then he thought about it.  “No, you’re right.  He was still better than Lockhart.”

“Hey.” Neville cocked his head and looked at the twins. “Didn’t you enchant snow balls to throw themselves at Quirrell’s turban?”

The twins exchanged a look. “Yeah?”

“So you enchanted snow balls to throw themselves at You-Know-Who’s face?”

Their mouths dropped open, but it was a deeper, rougher voice that laughed.  Remus Lupin was standing at the Grand Staircase, and apparently had heard Neville’s comment.

“Did you really?” He asked the twins, looking positively thrilled.

“We didn’t know Quirrell was possessed by You-Know-Who at the time.” Fred said.

“But, technically speaking, yes.  We did.” George added.

“That’s fantastic. Utterly fantastic.  I used to know some pranksters that would have loved to hear something like that.”

The twins’ faces lit up even further. “Not the legends known as the Marauders, surely?”

Lupin blinked. “Actually, yes.  Do the teachers still talk about them?”

The twins shook their heads.  “No, we just kind of… stumbled upon them.” One twin said.

“Do you know who they were? Their real names?” The other asked eagerly.  Harry was pretty sure it was Fred, but couldn’t be sure.  “We only know their aliases: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.”

“I knew them.” Lupin admitted.  “Prongs was none other than James Potter.  It’s actually what I wanted to talk to Harry here about.”

Harry frowned. “My dad being a prankster?  Are you worried that I’m going to be breaking the rules, sir?  Because Hermione is rather against that.”

“No, no.  It’d be somewhat hypocritical of me.  I used to go by Moony, you see.”

The twins exchanged looks and then fell to their knees.

“Our master!”

“Teach us your ways, o wise one!" 

Lupin rolled his eyes.  “I just… I knew your dad well, Harry.  I thought you might like to hear some stories.”

Harry had known Lupin knew his dad from Merlin’s stories but hadn’t expected to be approached by him so quickly.  He slowly nodded, always eager to hear more about his parents. “Yes. Yes, I’d like that.”

“How about lunch in my office, then?”

“Sure.” Harry looked over at Neville and Hermione, and then his eyes flicked to the spot where he knew Aurora was hovering beneath the invisibility cloak.  “Aurora, you’ll tell Merlin where I am?”

She sighed and slipped off the cloak.  She draped it over one arm.  “I’ll tell him, but do make sure you eat something.”

“I’ll make sure he eats.” Lupin promised.  He didn’t seem phased at all by the cloak, and as a teacher had already been informed of Aurora’s presence in the castle.  “Harry has my class next anyway, so I’ll be returning Harry to you in just a bit.”

Lupin led Harry back up the stairs towards his office on the third floor.  “I wanted to apologize to you for having never written you or approached you before now.  Dumbledore refused to tell me where he’d placed you and my owls were turned away.  Soon after the war, I had to leave Britain for my own safety.  It was only recently that I was able to return.”

“Because that law about werewolves not being allowed to be employed in public being overturned over the summer.” Harry stated, rather than asked.  Lupin rose an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.  “I actually knew you were friends with my dad.  Well, I mean.  I heard your name and then Merlin showed me your teaching application when we were reviewing the professors over the summer.”

“How did Merlin know I was friends with your dad?” Lupin didn’t sound accusing, but rather genuinely curious.

“The Shrieking Shack is actually Merlin’s home.  It’s where I lived over the summer.  He… witnessed your transformations when you were a student, and the friendship you had with my dad. And Sirius Black.”

Lupin’s face darkened and he looked away. “I’d rather not talk about Black.  It’s a very painful topic for me.  I will answer any questions you have, of course, but… I was always closer to Sirius, to Black, than I was to James.  I should have known.”

Harry frowned deeply.  He considered telling Lupin about his suspicions regarding Black’s crimes, but thought better of it.  He had no proof and only a theory so far.  Instead, he simply said, “I don’t know what happened that night.  I’m not sure that I’ll ever find out, but I will tell you the same thing that I told Merlin.  You aren’t responsible for my parents’ murder.  Unless you were the one that betrayed them, you have no reason to feel guilty.”

“I wish I could have been there for you. When you were growing up.”

“Me too.”  Harry said honestly as they arrived at Lupin’s office.  It was vastly different from Lockhart’s, with a cage by the window that held a strange creature Harry didn’t recognize.  “But we can’t change the past.”

“I was told that you have your own personal elf.  Would you rather call him, or one of the Hogwarts elves, for our food?”

Harry’s eyes widened.  “Oh!  Dobby!”

Dobby appeared.  “Harry calls Dobby?”

“Are you busy?”

Dobby shook his head, and his ears flapped with the rapid movement. “No, be _bored_.”

“Could you get something to eat for me and Professor Lupin?”

“What does sir want?” Dobby asked, looking at Lupin.

“Just some sandwiches would be fine, Dobby.”

Dobby narrowed his eyes and snapped his finger.  Two plates appeared, one with cucumber sandwiches and another with assorted fruit.  Dobby looked pointedly at Harry and jerked his nose towards the plate. “Yous be eating or Dobby tells Mr. Merlin on yous.”

“I’ll eat, I promise.”

Dobby sniffed, but took him for his word and popped away.  Lupin was frowning at the plates.

“Why is everyone so concerned that you eat?  Is there… Are you ill?”

“I don’t have an eating disorder, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Harry sat down and picked up a sandwich.  “I lived with my aunt and uncle growing up.”

Lupin frowned, “But James didn’t… You don’t mean Lily’s sister?”

Harry nodded. “Petunia, and her husband.”

“She didn’t come to Lily’s wedding.  I remember Alice had a terrible time convincing Lily to even leave her bedroom; she cried and cried because she didn’t have any family to speak of at the wedding.  Your grandparents had already died by then.  I think Lily sent her word when you were born.”

“They didn’t like me.  I wasn’t… I didn’t get fed a lot.  I don’t really get hungry anymore, not like a normal person, so I have to be reminded to eat.  I only notice that I’m hungry if I don’t eat anything all day long.”

“Lily must be turning over in her grave.  She… She wanted you to be _loved_ , Harry.  She made sure to fill your life with good, kind people that adored you.  Alice Longbottom couldn’t have loved you more if you were her own child.  Lily and Alice went into labor within hours of each other, and thought that you and Neville might be born on the same day, but you were stubborn and held out.”

“I… Neville’s mum was my godmother, right?”

Lupin nodded, “Yes.  You should have been raised with Neville. It’s what Lily would have wanted.  You were meant to grow up as brothers.”

For a brief moment, Harry let himself imagine it… and then he shut the thought off viciously, before it could fester and hurt.

“I’ll confess that I wanted to invite you for lunch for another reason.  I’ve been introducing all my students to a boggart.  It’s a magical creature that assumes the form of whatever its victim most fears.  I thought… I thought you should have a chance to look at it without an audience.  I’d rather Voldemort not step out in front of a class of third years.”

“You think I’m afraid of Voldemort?”

“Aren’t you?”

Harry shook his head. “No.  He wants me dead, and I know that.  He’s dangerous, and I know that.  But I’m not afraid of him.  He’s afraid of _me._  He’s been afraid of me, since I was a year old, and so why _should_ I fear him?”

“So what are you afraid of?”

Harry thought about it.  A few months ago, he might have said the basilisk, but that was before he’d met Kiyohime.  Now, all he could do was feel sorry for the giant beast he’d been forced to kill.  He had never _feared_ the Dursleys, any more than he feared Voldemort.  Hated them, never wanted to see them again, yes. But he didn’t _fear_ them.

“I don’t know.” Harry said honestly. “But, let’s find out.”

Lupin nodded. “I’ve got the boggart here in my briefcase.  Are you ready?”

Harry had no idea what to expect, but he nodded.  He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and then Lupin opened the briefcase.  A gray, indistinct shape flowed out, almost like water, and then suddenly Lily Potter was standing before them.  Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she was wearing a muggle dress, fitted at the waist and flaring at her knees, and Harry stared at her, confused.  Why did it take that form? He wasn’t afraid of his _mum_.

She looked at Lupin, and smiled, and then looked at Harry and that smile faded away.

“Oh.” Lily said. “Is this Harry?”

Her eyes flickered over Harry, from the top of his head down to his feet.  She frowned.

“This is who I died for? This… scrawny little boy?  You were supposed to be _strong_.  What a _disappointment_.”

Harry flinched and Lupin quickly moved around the desk, drawing his wand.

“I should have just let him kill you.  We could have had another child, a _better_ child.  We didn’t have to die.  Not so you could live.  You’re _worthless_.”

The amulet around Harry’s neck suddenly grew hot against his skin, and he gasped.  White light flooded from the pendant and shot at the boggart, making its form stumble backwards.  Lupin stepped in front of the boggart, and it changed.  For half a second, it was gray and formless again and then it took the shape of a full moon, hanging behind clouds.  Lupin waved his wand, almost lazily.

“Riddikulus.”

The moon blew away, like smoke, and Lupin banished the boggart back into his briefcase.  Harry was shaking, staring blankly at the place where the boggart had stood wearing his mother’s face.  His hand curled around his pendant, which was still pulsing hotly against the hollow of his throat.

“None of that is true.” Lupin said.  “Your mother would be _proud_ of you.”

Harry could feel Lily’s emotions through the pendant.  Her outrage that the boggart had used _her_ face to hurt Harry, her desire to protect him, and her immense pride washed over Harry like a river.  He took several deep breaths and then forced himself to let go of the amulet.

He said, “I know.”

“What was that light?”

Harry didn’t want anyone to know about the necklace.  It was too personal, and too precious to him.  He nervously flipped the collar of his school robes up to hide the amulet and shrugged. “Accidental magic?”

Lupin clearly didn’t believe him, but accepted the answer.  “I think it would be better for you to stay towards the back of the class today.  This is a… It’s a personal fear, something not to be revealed in front of your classmates.”

 

 

Lupin stood at the front of the class, smiling softly.  Harry could hear Ron whispering to Seamus and Dean behind him, and he knew Lupin could hear them, too.  Ron had taken one look at Lupin and decided _pushover_.  Harry couldn’t blame him.  Lupin had light, sandy colored hair, gray eyes, and hunched shoulders.  He was dressed in shabby robes, he wasn’t particularly tall, and he appeared to be incredibly mild mannered 

Ron didn’t know what Harry did.  Lupin had been bitten when he was just a child.  When one lived with a wolf inside of them for that long, they gained teeth.

Lupin called the class to attention by tapping on his desk.  Everyone quieted, not knowing what to make of the new teacher.  Was Ron Weasley right? Was he a pushover? Would he be like Quirrell, an easy grade and not enough nerve to be a _real_ defense teacher?

“Hello. My name is Professor Remus Lupin.  I’ve been asked to be perfectly upfront with you all, so let me tell you about myself.  I went to Hogwarts with most of your parents, I have Masteries in three subjects, and have been teaching at the Salem Institute in the Americas for the last six years.” Lupin paused, and only Harry noticed the way he had to prepare himself to say the rest. “And when I was five years old, I was bitten by a werewolf.”

The room exploded with noise.  Ron shouted and tripped over his chair, ending up on the floor in his haste to get away.  Two Slytherins pulled their wands and even Neville tensed beside Harry.

“I’ve been a werewolf for nearly thirty years.  In that time, I have never purposefully _or accidently_ hurt another person.  Not as a human, and not during the full moon.  I want to reassure you all that you are in _no danger_ from me.”

“You’re a werewolf! How are we not in danger?” Ron yelled.

“The full moon was six days ago.” Harry snapped.  “It’s not like he’s going to turn into a wolf and eat you right now." 

Lupin laughed. “No, I won’t.  I have been taking precautions my entire life to ensure I don’t hurt someone because of what happened to me.  At the Salem Institute, I spent the full moons in a tower by myself.  I’ve been taking the _wolfsbane_ potion since its creation nine years ago, with great success.  Here at Hogwarts, I have the benefit of having one of the creators of that particular potion willing to brew it for me, and I will be spending the full moons in a spelled room in the dungeons to ensure I am not a threat to any student.”

“Isn’t it illegal?” Hermione asked. “I read that werewolves aren’t allowed to have jobs where they interact with the public. Let alone students.”

“That law was changed nine months ago, and finally put into motion over the summer.” Neville piped up. “My gran was one of the ones that voted it away.”

“And I am grateful for it.  I had always hoped to return to Hogwarts, which was my home for many years, to teach.” He paused for a moment, and then set his briefcase on the desk top.  “But, enough about me.  Let’s move on to your first lesson of the year: who can tell me about boggarts?”

Hermione, rather expectantly, raised her hand.  “They’re classified as dark creatures by the Ministry because they assume the form of your biggest fear.”

“Correct. Ten points.  Does anyone want to make an argument for them _not_ being dark creatures? Yes, Miss. Greengrass.”

“They assume the form of your biggest fear, but this is a defense mechanism.  Boggarts don’t feed off of fear, like dementors.  Like many magical creatures, they feed off of specific types of magic.  They are actually non-violent creatures that as a whole avoid people.  The only danger they pose to witches and wizards is that emotional upheaval, like being overwhelmingly afraid, can lead to magical upheaval and a fractured core.”

“Excellent!  Ten points to Slytherin.  I have here a boggart that found its way into the Castle over the summer.  I’m going to teach you how to cast the common _riddikulus_ charm, which will allow you to transform the boggart from something you fear into something that makes you laugh.  Laughter is what repels a boggart, and it will instinctively move away from you. Who wants to go first?”

No one was ever keen to literally face their fears, so there wasn’t a stampede of people to the front of the class.  Lupin chuckled again.

“Okay, looks like I’m selecting my own victim.  Mr. Weasley?  And Mr. Malfoy, too, please.  Mr. Weasley, you first.”

Ron was visibly shaking as he approached the front of the class.  Lupin opened his briefcase and Harry’s fingers tightened on his desk as the gray form flowed out.  Seconds later, it was a huge spider, taller than Ron and hunching over him.  Ron turned pale, and promptly fainted.  Lupin blinked down at him in confusion.

“So much for that Gryffindor bravery.” Malfoy muttered.   He stepped over Ron’s form and the boggart turned to him.  It was gray once more as it rearranged itself and took the form of Draco’s greatest fear.  Harry doubted he was the only one whose jaw dropped at the sight of Lucius Malfoy.

“Draco.”

Malfoy swallowed, but his wand didn’t shake.  “Hello, Father.”

“Does your family still raise those white birds, Mr. Malfoy?” Lupin asked, casually walking around the room.

“Yes, sir. My grandfather’s prized peacocks.”

“Picture those feathers in your mind… and then imagine them falling from your father’s mouth.”

Draco nodded, closing his eyes.

“Do you have that image in your mind?  Good, then cast _Riddikulus._ The wand movement is a bit of a jab.”

Draco cast, his voice strong and unwavering. “Riddikulus!”

When Lucius tried to talk again, all that came out was an awful screeching bird call and a burst of thin, white feathers.  Draco’s lip quirked and Hermione giggled.

“Good! Who's next?  Mr. Finnegan, good man.”

Malfoy stepped away as Seamus took his place.  Harry caught his eye and gave a short nod, which Malfoy returned.  When Malfoy sat down, he didn’t look away from Harry. In fact, He stared at him for the rest of class.

 

 

“Malfoy is still staring you.” Hermione said as they were packing up their things at the end of class. 

“Malfoy is always staring at Harry.” Neville shrugged.  “Ever since first year.”

“Not usually this much.”  Hermione frowned and looked back over at Malfoy.  He seemed to be purposefully loitering, nodding at the other Slytherins to go on without him.  “It makes me nervous.  Like he has something planned.”

“I’m sure he won’t be stupid enough to start anything after what the Prophet revealed.” Neville pointed out. “It was different before; everyone knew Harry was an orphan and that he didn’t have an official magical guardian.  Now, he’s _Merlin’s_ ward and everyone is terrified of him.”

“So you don’t think he’s up to something?” Harry asked Neville, curious.

“Harry, its _Malfoy_.  He’s always up to something.  I just don’t think he’s going to actually _do_ anything.”

As it was, Malfoy caught them at the door.  He cleared his throat and looked right at Harry.

“Potter,” Malfoy began.  He licked at his lips and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes flickering over to Hermione and Neville. “Er. Granger? Longbottom? Could you give us a moment?”

“No.” Hermione said bluntly, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hermione, its fine.  Go on.  You, too, Aurora.”

Aurora swept the cloak off of herself and glared at Harry.  Malfoy, he saw, flinched at her sudden appearance and went for his wand but stilled himself at the last second.  Aurora’s eyes flicked over to him dismissively before settling on Harry once again. “I don’t approve of this.  This is the _second_ time you’ve dismissed me, and you have a poor history with this boy.”

Harry waved a hand. “It’ll be fine.  You can wait just outside the door, with Hermione.  Malfoy isn’t going to curse me.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Hermione muttered.  She eyed Malfoy mistrustfully, but let Neville drag her away.

Harry leaned back against his desk and watched as Aurora eyed Malfoy up and down.  Malfoy didn’t look hostile.  He wasn’t sneering, frowning, or otherwise glowering at Harry.  He still looked shaken, possibly from the boggart.  Finally, she sighed.

“Fine, but I don’t like this.”  She left them alone, and for several minutes Harry and Malfoy just stared at one another in silence.

Malfoy cleared his throat again. “Right.  Potter.  I wanted to speak to you.”

“Obviously.”

It earned him a slightly dirty look from Malfoy, but that actually made Harry feel better.  Like it was actually still Malfoy, and not some weird pod person.

“I think it’s best if we both were to…. Leave our animosity for one another behind.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Malfoy repeated.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“That’s it. Just ‘okay’?”

“What else do you want me to say?” Harry asked. He was genuinely curious, but Malfoy just huffed at him.  “We leave each other alone and aren’t assholes to one another.”

Malfoy opened his mouth, shut it, and finally just huffed again. He crossed his arms and glowered.

“What do you _want_ , Malfoy?” Harry asks, exasperated.

“Can’t we try to...?” Malfoy trailed off and pressed his lips together tightly.

“To what?”

“Be friends.” Malfoy muttered.  Harry barely heard him, but he wasn’t going to ask him to repeat himself.  He knew what was said.

He thought about it.  Two years ago, Malfoy had offered him his hand in friendship and Harry had turned him away because of Ron.  Well, Harry had since learned that Ron was a prat.

“I don’t know.  Your dad probably wouldn’t approve.”

It wasn’t meant as a jab, but Malfoy flinched.  Harry immediately wanted to apologize, but Malfoy was already speaking.  “My father isn’t a stupid man.  He’s read the paper by now.  He’ll leave you alone.  And even if he doesn’t… Look, I’m my own man, aren’t I?”

“You think your dad will be okay with this? What, because of Merlin?”

“Because you might very well be the reincarnation of Arthur bloody Pendragon.  The Malfoys are an _old_ family.  We know the tales.  We know what happens to those that side against Lady Magic’s Chosen.”

Harry looked at him suspiciously. “So you just want to be friends with me because I might be the King of Avalon one day?”

“No. I wanted to be friends with you when you were a little street urchin in Diagon Alley.  The whole king thing is just a side benefit.”

Harry laughed again.  It came easier each time. “Okay.  We’ll give it a go.  You’ve got to be nice to my friends, though.”

Malfoy made a face.  “I’m not sure I’m physically capable of it.”

Harry frowned. “Look, I know you’ve been raised to believe in blood purity or whatever but Hermione–”

“I can deal with Granger, it’s the Weasel I can’t stand.”

“Oh. Well, we’re not friends anymore.  He’s been a right prat about this whole thing.  He said I wasn’t fit to be king because of my mother’s blood.  I’m considering calling him out for it.”

“I would pay so much money to see that.” Malfoy admitted.

“I don’t need your money, Malfoy.  I’m richer than you now.  I’ll provide that entertainment for free.”

There’s a second of silence and then Malfoy asked. “So how do we do this?”

“Do what?”

“Be friends.  I mean, all of my friends are in Slytherin, and my dad bought most of them.”

Harry wasn’t sure if that was an exaggeration or not, so he didn’t comment.  “Let’s meet up Friday after classes in the library.  We can study.”

“That’s what you do with your friends?”

“Merlin says my grades need to improve, and I’ve got a lot to catch up on if I’m going to be king.  I don’t… I don’t have a lot of free time available for friendships.  Hermione doesn’t mind spending time in the library.”

“I usually study out by the lake, when the weather is nice.  But, we can do the library.  So Granger will be there?”

“Hermione and Neville, probably.  You can bring whoever you want, too.”

“Okay. Friday in the library, then.”

Harry nodded at him, but didn't leave the classroom.  Draco frowned.

“Was there something else?”

“Lupin let me see the boggart before class.  He was afraid it might take the form of Voldemort and scare everyone else.”

“Did it?”

“No.  It took the form of my mother… Saying she should have let me die.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know the deal with your dad, but I don't think it’s right for a parent to be their kid’s worst fear.  If you wanna talk about it, I’ll listen.”

Harry turned and walked out the door before Draco could say anything else.  Hermione latched onto his arm at the end of the hall and looked him over as if she was checking for damages.  Aurora eyed him from a distance, and then swept the cloak over herself again.  She was clearly still upset with him.

“What’d he want?” Hermione asked.

“To be friends.  We’re going to meet up in the library on Friday and study.”

Hermione pressed her lips together and frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing.  I’ll just have to adjust our study schedules, is all.  I bet Malfoy is a big distraction.”

Harry laughed so hard that he had to lean against Neville, who was smiling and looking bemused.

“Studying with Malfoy.  This year is going to be a lot different from last.” Neville said.

“Good. Last year was terrible. I’d hate to be petrified again.” Hermione quipped. “Come on, we’re going to be late for History of Magic.”

“I wonder what’ll be like to not fall asleep in that class.” Neville wondered aloud, as they set off down the hall.

 

 

Harry had learned that Merlin was a dramatic sort of person after living with him for the last two months.  The third year Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students learned that Merlin was a dramatic sort of person when he suddenly appeared at the front of the classroom, his feet kicked up on the desk.

“Anyone want to guess how I did that?”

“Invisibility cloak.” Ron said promptly.

In response, Merlin disappeared and reappeared in the far corner, waved and then returned to his seat.  It was far too quick to have been done while under a cloak.

“It’s not apparition.  You can’t do that in Hogwarts; the wards won’t let you.” Hermione frowned deeply.  She clearly didn’t like not knowing an answer.

“Correction: the wards won’t let _you_.  I’m the Regent of Gryffindor and the wards answer to me.  But you are right; that wasn’t apparition.  Any other guesses?”

The class was silent.  Even Harry didn’t know how Merlin was able to move around as freely as he did.

“This is History of Magic… So, let me ask you another question.  When does the history of magic begin?”

“With Arthur Pendragon.  He was the first wizard to live in Britain…well, aside from you.” That was a Hufflepuff girl, Susan Bones.

“Okay, I taught Arthur.  Where did I come from?”

She floundered, not having an answer.  Merlin raised an eyebrow at Harry.

“You came into being on the Isle of Man, sometime around 300BCE.  You were not born.  You were made by Lady Magic herself.  You are in fact a _part_ of Lady Magic, because you were created _from_ magic.”

“Correct. Miss. Granger, can you tell me what year Stonehenge was built in?”

“Well, nobody knows for sure.  Most assume about 2000BCE, but possibly as early as a millennium before.”

“Also, correct.  Now. It is widely accepted and known that Stonehenge was built for the purpose of practicing magic.  However, I –the first wizard to exist in Britain– wasn’t alive until two-to-three thousand years after the creation of the site.  So who was using it?”

“Magical creatures.” Harry realized.  “Like elves.  You told me over the summer that all the other elves except house elves left the realm.”

“I did.  Elves, such a high elves and the lesser wood elves and moon elves, left this realm after the death of King Arthur.  Before then, they existed here.  Most of the highly magical sites in Britain, such as Stonehenge, were created by these beings and others like them.  Magical creatures with high intelligence and sentience.  Only a few of these creatures decided to stay in the realm after Arthur’s death.  Mr. Weasley, what does your brother Bill do?”

Ron appeared startled, but answered the question. “He’s a curse breaker for Gringotts.”

“He works in Egypt, doesn’t he? I hear you visited him over the summer.  What did you see?”

“Um.” Ron looked around at everyone watching him and flushed. “Well, there were those pyramids, right? Mummies and what… We went to a market.”

“These mummies… were they muggle mummies?”

“No! Of course not, they were wizards.”

“Do you know when these pyramids were built? When these wizards lived and when they died?”

“Er… A long time ago?”

Merlin sighed. “Miss. Granger?”

“The pyramids in Egypt were built at different times but the oldest magical pyramid that we’ve found was built sometime around 2600BCE.”

“Good.  Here’s a question for you: how were humans practicing magic in Egypt in 2600BCE when the only magical beings during that time in Britain were creatures like the elves?”

Hermione didn’t have that answer.  Harry furrowed his brow in thought.

“You were created by Lady Magic… but there were, at one time, six others just like you.  Were you created at the same time, or did she make the others before you?”

Merlin grinned. “Very good!  The oldest known magical being was my brother _Heka_.  He was born several hundred years before the pyramids in Egypt were built, and is the one responsible for teaching the people of that area how to access and use magic.  My brothers and sisters were created in various places throughout the world.  I am the only one of my brethren that still lives; the others have left this realm to return to our Lady Mother in her realm.”

“Why are you still here?” A Hufflepuff boy asked.

“It is my duty to see to the return of the Once and Future King to the throne of Avalon.” Merlin said evenly.  “I believe that my time here will soon be coming to an end.”

The class collectively turned to look at Harry, who glared at Merlin.

“I haven’t decided.  You said I have until I’m seventeen, and I haven’t decided. So don’t go packing your bags and preparing to leave just yet.”

Merlin laughed. “Don’t worry, Harry.  I won’t crown you and run off.  I’ve got to stick around and make sure the Lady Magic’s Chosen is _honored_ this time around.  I won’t let history repeat itself.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:
> 
> 1) I spent three hours going over my books, but couldn't find a single reference to the Great Lake being freshwater specifically, and the Harry Potter Wikia just has "large body of water". Because its home to a giant squid, which is a salt-water specific animal, I've decided to make it a salt lake. I KNOW that most of the waterways in the UK are freshwater, but in order for the squid to survive without continual magical support from the castle or something, it needs to be saltwater. SO I MADE AN EXECUTIVE DECISION.
> 
> 2) The Japanese terms were researched and one of my betas has a passing familiarity with Japanese, but neither of us are fluent. If I've made a grave error, please let me know. If its small enough that it can be waved away with "differences between muggle Japan and magical Japan" I'm probably going to leave it be.
> 
> Translations:  
> ojousan - a polite form of address for an unmarried woman younger than ones self.
> 
> iemoto - similiar to sensei, as it is a form of address for an honored instructor. Seems to have specific connotations regarding being the head of a school of traditional Japanese arts. Because I have parselmagic being a "traditional" form of magic in Japan, I thought this fit with Hiro.
> 
> sensei - the traditional form of address for a teacher or instructor. Most of Hiro's students use this form of address. Harry is special, and uses the more formal/slightly outdated "iemoto".
> 
> 3) I made [this post about wandlore](https://jadedhavok.wordpress.com/2015/06/22/wand-lore-the-once-and-future-potter-series/) and how it is functioning in this story, and a list of characters and their wands, months ago but then my computer crashed and things got away from me. I put HOURS of work into that thing, so please take a look. You'll be getting a sneak-preview at some of the characters that will be showing up, and an insight into their personalities if you feel like translating the wandlore.
> 
> 4) In July I participated in a writing challenge called Rough Trade. Over the course of the month, I was supposed to write three short, 10k stories. I successfully finished two of them, and have nearly completed the third. They exist within the same universe and will eventually be apart of a series that is five stories long. I won't be posting any of them until January, but that's at least something to look forward to, right?


	5. Lily Potter's Legacy

After classes, Harry wolfed down dinner and then Hermione dragged him off to the library.  They claimed the same out-of-the-way table they’d used last year when researching possible monsters in the castle.  Neville sat down with his magical planner and Harry peered over his shoulder curiously. 

“I got you one, too, Harry.  I found them at this stationary store in Paris.” Hermione told him.  She dug in her bag briefly, and then handed it over.  “I’ve got a spare that I was going to give to Ron, too.”

“Would you mind letting Merlin see it?” Harry asked. “Including something like that for each student at the beginning of the year could provide a line of communication between students and professors.  The teachers could lay out the assignments for the whole year, and it could help students work through them at their own pace.  It would also help the professors keep track of independent studies and stuff.  A planner issued to first years could include a map of Hogwarts and some basic guides.”

“That’s a great idea, Harry.  Of course I’ll let Merlin see it.” Hermione raked her hands through her hair, quickly pulling her hair into a loose ponytail.  “So, I need to work out a study schedule… allotting time for studying with the Slytherins on Fridays.  Was Merlin successful in making the time room you were talking about?”

“I haven’t used it yet, but I assume so.  I’m supposed to have my lessons with him in an hour.  Neville, did you want to come to those as well?”

Neville shook his head. “Maybe later, but right now I want to just get a grip on my studies.”

“Let’s write down our schedules and compare them.  Then, I’ll sort out steady schedule sessions for us.  We’ll have to figure out a way to keep everything in our planners synched… I have classes neither of you are taking.  Our OWLs are only two years away and that just doesn’t seem like enough time.”

“Relax, Hermione, that’s plenty of time.” Harry said with a roll of his eyes.  Neville snickered, going immediately quiet when Hermione shot him a glare.

“These tests are _important_.”

“I know, Hermione.  I get it.  I’ll make out my schedule okay?”

Harry had a pretty full schedule.  He had an hour of meditation with Master Ito and an hour of practice out on the Quidditch Pitch with the Gryffindor team before breakfast, four two-hour classes a day (plus an extra fifth one on Tuesdays and Thursdays thanks to Merlin finagling a time turner out of McGonagall…( Harry would be able to attend Arithmancy and Ancient Runes at the same time, alongside Hermione doing the same thing), and Merlin had made his rules about the Time Room very clear.  Harry wasn’t going to be allowed to use the room to cope with his day-to-day classes; he would need to manage any homework and studying he needed to do for his Hogwarts classes on his own time.  Merlin had told him that he expected Harry to complete at least four hours of lessons a day within the Time Room, which would still exhaust his body and mind even though time didn’t actually pass outside of the room.  It was a lot to cram into a day, alongside things like eating, sleeping, showering, and _relaxation_ , which Master Ito insisted upon, citing that it was essential for good mental health.

“Merlin, Harry.” Neville whistled, looking over his shoulder at the rough sketch of his schedule.  “When are you going to sleep?”

Harry raked a hand through his hair. “I think after dinner, I’ll head to the Time Room, and nap for an hour before doing my lessons there.  Then I’ll backtrack down here to the library and join you and Hermione here.”

“You’ll definitely need a break,” Hermione agreed, leaning over to look at the schedule herself. “Time is very tricky to manage.”

“Especially when you manipulate it like you’re planning on this year.  Are you _sure_ about this, Hermione?”

Hermione shrugged. “The Minister of Magic came to speak to me about it over the summer.  They’re very interested in my academics so far; I think they’re already looking to coax me into choosing the ministry as a career field.”

Harry’s face scrunched up.  He hadn’t enjoyed any of the political lessons Lord Daniels had given him so far. “Would you want that?”

“I don’t know. I want to keep my options open, and learning everything I possibly can seems like the best way to do that.  Of course, then I learn that there are huge branches of magic that aren’t even _offered_ at Hogwarts.  I sometimes wish I could have gone to someplace like the Salem Institute.  Now _there_ is a place making enormous strides in modern magic.  Britain is still locked in the dark ages, and compared to what is being done in the Americas we might as well not be practicing magic at all.”

“Is the Salem Institute really that advanced?” Neville asked, frowning.

Harry shrugged. “Merlin spoke about the possibility of sending me abroad, though his preference was the Mahoutokoro School in Japan.  Master Ito attended there as a boy; it’s the second-oldest school of magic in the world.”

Neville cocked his head. “What’s the oldest school, then?”

“The Alexandria Academy in Egypt, though there was also a magical school in Babylon that was destroyed along with the Hanging Gardens.”

“The Ministry states that there’re only eleven magical schools in the world.”

“That’s bullocks.  There are three in America alone, one in Canada, four in Africa, five in Asia not even counting the Russian school, and a fifth school just opened two years ago in South America.  Plus the three European schools, that’s… twenty-two?”

He looked over at Hermione for confirmation and she nodded. “I didn’t realize there were so many.”

“The British Ministry of Magic has  a vested interest in keeping its citizens from realizing the opportunities they have abroad.  Magical Britain is drastically behind the rest of the world, and it’s become a problem in the last decade.  Other countries consider us to be lazy, backwards, and largely don’t bother to even engage with us outside of Quidditch.  The ICW has a yearly tournament between all the magical schools in the world and Hogwarts hasn’t even gotten an invite in fifteen years.  We just aren’t considered to be on their level.”

“Is that why you fired Snape?” Neville asked curiously.

“Well, that and he was a very terrible teacher.  It’s why I couldn’t allow Binns to be our sole history teacher, and why we _need_ a good defense teacher.  It’s why next year we’re going to be doubling the offered classes and staff.  Merlin wanted me to go abroad, and I fought to come back to Hogwarts.”

“Why not go abroad?” Hermione asked with a sigh. “You could do it. You could go _anywhere_.”

“I’m the _Heir_ of Godric Gryffindor.  I have a, a responsibility to this school.  This is my family’s legacy, and it’s my duty to return this school to the glory it once had.  It wouldn’t have been right for me to go anywhere else.  I expect Merlin is going to drag me around the world every summer between now and me turning seventeen, though.”

Neville and Hermione both looked confused, so Harry sighed.

“If I accept the Crown of Avalon, it’ll make me King of the entire Realm of Avalon, not just magical Britain.  I’ll be king of the world.  Literally.”

Looks of confusion fell away to looks of abject horror.

Hermione’s eyes were large, and her lip trembled.  Harry hoped she didn’t start crying.  “That’s… That’s so much responsibility, Harry. The _entire_ magical realm?  You’re only thirteen-years-old.”

“Better you than me,” was Neville’s response.

“Thanks for the support, guys.”

“We obviously support you, Harry.” Neville said.  “I’m just saying that I wouldn’t blame you if you turned it down.”

Harry twisted the ring on his hand.  “I don’t want it… But, I don’t know that I would ever be able to walk away from it, either.”

 

 

Aurora followed Harry into the Tower that night.  Harry sighed and headed straight for his quarters; he’d figured she would want to speak with him.  As soon as the door was shut behind them, she swept the cloak off of herself and pointed to the bed.

“Sit.”

Harry obeyed.

“You agreed, Prince Hadrian.”

“ _Harry_.”

“No, you seem to need the reminder of just who you are.  You are my future _king_ and I have a duty towards you, a _magical_ duty.  My family swore on our _magic_ to protect and guard your line with our own.  You agreed, Prince Hadrian.  Anytime you were outside of Gryffindor Tower, I was to be with you.  You agreed to that, and _twice_ today you dismissed me from your presence.  You aren’t letting me do my job, or fulfill my family’s oath.  I realize that it bothers you, but your actions today _hurt my magic_.  Do not make me go to Merlin about this.  You won’t like the result of _that_.”

Harry winced.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to cause… damage to your magic.  I didn’t think it would hurt you.”

“I realize that.  The fact is, my family’s magic has been dwindling for _years_ because we were not able to maintain our oath, and my magic has hurt since I came of age.  My duty to you is a magical one, and it requires certain things of us _both_.  I’m sorry it makes you uncomfortable, but I’d rather you be uncomfortable than dead anyway.”

“I’m not in danger at _Hogwarts_ though!”

“Of course you are!  Any child could push you off a staircase, or curse you from behind.  You’ve faced situations that could have cost you your life at least six times in the last two years while at this school.  I _will_ see you live to claim your throne and continue your line, but you _must_ let me do my job.  There are spells that will grant you privacy if you don’t want me to hear your discussions, but I insist on being present from now on.”

Harry crossed his arms.  “Privacy spells, _and_ you keep as much distance as you can.”

“I will use my discretion, but fine.  I will agree to that.”

Harry held out a hand and Aurora shook it.

“Get some sleep.  You’ve got a full day tomorrow; your lessons in the Time Room begin.”

Harry groaned and collapsed back so he was lying on his bed.  He pulled a pillow over his face.  “Don’t remind me!”  He peeked out from around the pillow and frowned. “Merlin is still letting me off on Hogsmeade weekends, right?”

“Yes.  You’ll have those weekends to yourself, and your friends.  We don’t want to push you _too_ hard.  We are only trying to prepare you.”

“I know.  I don’t _really_ mind, it’s just… Even _Hermione_ was intimidated by my schedule and she’s _Hermione_.  I don’t want to let anyone down.”

“You won’t.” Aurora promised.  “We aren’t going to let you fail, Harry.  When you turn seventeen, I promise that you will be fully prepared to take the throne.”

“If that’s what I choose.”

Aurora inclined her head. “Yes.  You’ll be prepared _if that’s what you choose_.”

“Okay.  Because I might not.”

Her lips quirked. “We know.  You like to remind us of that.” She sounded like she was humoring him, and Harry sighed.

Apparently he wasn’t fooling _anyone_.

 

 

_Harry was walking a path through the Forest.  It was dark, to the point that he could barely see ahead of him, but he wasn’t afraid.  His wand was gripped in one hand, and a round, polished stone was in the other._

_His mother was singing a lullaby.  He was sure that if he looked over his shoulder, he would see her walking with him but his attention was focused on the clearing ahead._

_“Harry,” Lily called, “Harry, look over here and give me a smile, love.”_

_Harry glanced over.  Lily was sitting on the floor with him, and she snapped a picture with her camera as soon as he looked over.  Her back was pressed against a couch, and Harry was situated on a brightly colored rug._

_“Lily, my love,” James Potter called from the other room, “Alice is here and she’s brought Neville.”_

_“Did you hear that, love?” Lily asked as she climbed to her feet. “Aunty Alice brought Neville to see you.”_

_Harry looked over to the other room, and when he looked back Lily was laying on the ground.  A dark, hooded figure stood over her, and Harry realized she was dead.  The dark figure was laughing, the sound high and cold and not even remotely joyful, as he stepped over Lily’s body.  He pointed his wand at Harry, and his cloak fell away to expose a long-fingered hand that was white as bone.  There was a flash of green light, and Harry was standing at the shore of a bright, clear lake.  The water lapped gently around his bare feet._

_Harry could see the Sword of Gryffindor lying at the bottom, shining like a beacon._

_“You’re Harry Potter,” Neville stuttered.  Harry was changing into his pajamas, and it was his first night_ ever _at Hogwarts, and Neville’s pajama bottoms were forgotten on his bed.  “Right?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“I’m Neville Longbottom.” Neville held out a hand, and Harry hesitated but took it._

_“It’s nice to meet you.”_

_“Budge over, Longbottom,” Ron said, knocking into Neville’s shoulder.  “You can take the bed over there by the window.  I want the one by Harry.”_

_“But –”_

_Neville stopped himself, and looked over at Harry and his expression was searching but Harry had no idea what he wanted.  He frowned back, confused, and Neville sighed.  He moved his things to the bed across the room without another word._

_Harry stood in front of the Mirror of Erised and did his best to memorize his parents’ faces.  Behind his father was an old man with Harry’s knobby knees and a woman with his dark hair, curlier and messier than even James’. Behind his mother was a blonde woman with a soft, round face and big brown eyes that held the hand of a tall, broad man with Neville’s chin and big ears._

_Neville, older than they were now and covered in dirt and blood, held the Sword of Gryffindor in one hand and stepped forward to face down Voldemort without hesitation._

_Neville, chubby and frightened and eleven years old, stood defiantly in front of Harry and maybe he didn’t know that Harry was going to face down Voldemort himself but he knew enough and said, “I won’t let you.  I’ll fight you first.”_

_Neville at twelve silently helped Harry with his mandrake root when Justin Finch-Fletchley refused to be his partner anymore._

_Neville, at thirteen, with steel in his voice.  “Don’t you dare try to curse my king, Ronald Weasley.”_

_A woman appeared, gleaming white and gold, in the center of the lake and walked to him.  She was beautiful, the most beautiful and perfect thing Harry had ever seen, and she walked on the water like it was made of glass until she stood before Harry._

_“My beautiful Hadrian,” she said, her voice soft and musical.  She touched Harry’s cheek, and he realized he was crying.  “It’s never too late to fix what was meant to be.  You always have a choice.”_

_“I don’t.  I have to stand before Voldemort and now I have to be king and –”_

_“My dear boy.  You are my first choice, but not my_ only _choice.  There has always been another.”_

_“Neville,” Harry realized.  “Oh.  He’d make a great king.”_

_“So, one day, will you.  If you wish.”_

_She pressed Excalibur into his hand, and Harry curled his fingers around the hilt._

 

Harry woke from his dream with his head feeling heavy and full.  He honestly wasn't sure if he could call it a dream; he remembered every moment with perfect clarity and it felt like something more significant than a simple dream.

Lupin had said that Alice Longbottom had been Harry's godmum and Harry had found Neville's name listed in his family tree.  Lupin had also said that Harry's parents had intended for Harry to be raised with Neville, as brothers in magic.

Harry hadn't thought about his first night in Gryffindor Tower in a while, but his dream or vision of whatever it was had brought the memory to the forefront of his mind.  At the time, Harry had thought the stuttering and slightly awkward way Neville had introduced himself had been out of a desire to know the famous Boy Who Lived, but Harry realized with a start that hadn't been the reason Neville had come up to him at all.  Neville had expected Harry to know him, to recognize his name, and had been bitterly disappointed by Harry's lack of understanding.  Harry must have hurt Neville terribly during that year, when Harry had more or less ignored him though that hadn't been his intention.

Harry turned his head against his pillow and looked across the room, but he had a private room now and there wasn't another bed across the way to look at.  He swallowed hard and promised himself that he'd speak with Neville at the earliest opportunity.  He'd make this right.

Hermione let Harry partner with Neville during Herbology.  She didn’t even protest, and instead chose to sit beside Faye Dunbar, a shy Gryffindor girl in their year that Harry couldn’t recall ever having heard speak.  Neville gave Harry a happy grin, and made room for him at the table Neville had already selected.  Harry sat down and smiled back, and thumped his fingers against the tabletop nervously.

The thing was, Harry wasn’t sure about how to approach Neville.  Harry wanted to make amends, wanted the relationship with Neville that their parents had intended.  He just wasn’t sure that it wasn’t already too late for that.  Neville clearly wanted to be friends, but there was a difference between that and the relationship that Harry now yearned for.

“You look upset.” Neville observed quietly, ten minutes into class when Harry hadn’t said anything.

“I’m not upset.  I’m… preoccupied.”

“I bet finding out you’re going to be king is a bit preoccupying.”

“Well, yes. But that isn’t what I was thinking about.”  Neville looked bemused, but didn’t say anything.  Harry realized that the other boy didn’t intended to ask questions that might not be welcome, and kept talking.  “I’ve been reading my family Grimoire.  There’re loads of things in there that I never knew before, and not just about my family.  Stuff about me.  I didn’t know that godparents in the wizarding world are different than the ones in the muggle world.”

“How does it work in the muggle world?”

“It’s more like an honorary title, like a favorite aunt or uncle.  It doesn’t really have legal standing.  Godparents in the wizarding world have legal standing because they magically adopt their godchild, though.”

Neville nodded.  Being pureblood and raised in the tradition, he obviously knew that. “Most often, a married couple from within the family is chosen for the role.  My parents chose outside of the family.  My godfather was my father’s best friend, and my godmother my mother’s.  They had separate families and everything, but my parents thought it would protect me best if there were more people with legal ties to me.  Except, they both died anyway.”

“Your godmother was my mother... And your mum was mine.”

Neville looked at him.  “You read that in your book, right? You didn’t know until this summer.”

“I read Alice’s name about three days before school resumed.” Harry admitted.  “I wasn’t even going to read the chapter in the Grimoire about myself, but Merlin told me that I might have marriage contracts listed.  Thankfully, I don’t.  It did list other magical connections, though.  I didn’t know she was your mum until yesterday… Professor Lupin told me when he was talking about my parents.  The book said my bond with your mum was broken, but it doesn’t say what happened to her, and Lupin didn’t say.”

Neville’s hands shook slightly, as he carefully pruned their plant.  “We’ll talk after class.  Down by the lake.”

“You don’t have to.”

“You deserve to know.  I’d rather it stay between us, though.”

“Of course.  Er, except for Aurora, but she’s promised not to listen to private conversations.” Harry paused and then said, “I’d never betray your trust like that.  I found your name in my Grimoire last night.  You’re listed as my brother.”

Neville’s lips quirked.  “You’re on the Longbottom Family Tree.”

“I figured you knew.  That you’ve always known.”

Neville shrugged. “At first I thought maybe you did, too.  Because you were nice on the train, and then you fought with Malfoy over my rememberall.  But, then I realized you were just like that.”

“What? Fighting with Malfoy?”

“No.  Well, yes.  But, I meant nice.  You’re just nice.  You stick up for people automatically, even strangers.  I knew for sure in second year.  I figured if you knew about your family at all, you would have reminded everyone that you were the Gryffindor Heir, not the Slytherin one.”

“I am a descendent of Slytherin.  His great-granddaughter, specifically.”

“My godfather Anthony Bones was the Heir of Hufflepuff before he was murdered.  Susan holds that now.”

“Is she your sister in magic? Like us?”

“Yes, but her mother blames our family for her dad’s death.  I’m not allowed to see her.”

After class, Harry whispered to Hermione that he’d meet her back at the common room and followed Neville down to the lake.  They sat along the rocky shore and watched the Giant Squid’s tentacles make ripples in the water.

“They aren’t dead.” Neville finally said.  “My parents aren’t dead, not like yours.  They’re in St. Mungo’s permanent ward.”

“St. Mungo’s?”

“It’s a hospital.  The wizarding hospital in London.  They spent some time at a specialty clinic in France, right after it first happened, but they couldn’t really do much more for them and Grandmother didn’t like them being so far away.”

Neville wouldn’t look at him, and there was something clinical and detached about his voice that scared Harry.

“What happened to them?  Are they… cursed?”

“Not anymore.  Not how you think.  They _were_ cursed.  Four people cursed them all at once, the same curse over and over again.  There’s a curse called the _cruciatus_ curse.  It causes pain.”  Neville finally turned to look at Harry, looking so incredibly lost and hurt that it made Harry’s stomach churn.  “Did you know that enough pain can render someone insane?  After two hours, they’d lost the ability to speak.  After six hours, they couldn’t move anymore.  They kept cursing them, though.  For nineteen straight hours, even after they stopped screaming.  But, they didn’t kill them.”

Harry remembered what Merlin said, that there were worst things than death.  He believed him.

“Were you… were you there?”  Harry asked, afraid of the answer.  He thought of the way he’d dreamed of green light and cold laughter for as long as he could remember, and shuddered.

“Yes.  Gran took me to the Goblins when I was four and they made it so I can’t remember anything.  Before they made me forget, Gran says I wouldn’t speak and that I had nightmares every night and sometimes I’d scream and scream for no reason that she could ever determine.”

“Did they catch them? The ones that did it?”

“Yes.  They’re spending life terms in Azkaban Prison.  My uncle told me they were crazy, the ones that did it.  I reckon that must be true.  You’d have to be crazy, wouldn’t you? To do that to another person?  To torture a mother and father for hours and hours with their kid in the room?  You’d have to be crazy.”

Neville fell silent, and Harry didn’t ask anything else.  They sat there by the lake for hours, and only returned to the castle when it turned dark and cold, encouraged by the Giant Squid’s refusal to stop nudging their feet to get them to move and go in for dinner.

 

 

McGonagall had caught Harry just after dinner, and taken him away to speak to the Headmaster.  Harry had seemed calm and had gone with her easily enough, but Neville still found himself frowning at their backs.

“What do you suppose that’s about?” Hermione asked.  She was digging through her bag, but looked just as displeased as Neville did.

“Perhaps the Headmaster wants to discuss something to do with the Charter?”

“But shouldn’t Merlin be involved in those discussions, too?” Hermione nodded over to the Head Table where Merlin was still seated and talking at length to Professor Flitwick.

“It does seem strange.” Neville admitted.

 “I just wish he’d talk to me.” Hermione said. “He didn’t tell me where he was all summer, or answer any of my letters, and I was so _worried_.”

Neville patted her on the back, and Hermione squared her shoulders.  She brushed her hair over her shoulder and started marching off.

“I’m going to study in the library,” she announced over her shoulder, and that wasn’t much of a surprise at all.  Neville let her go and decided to wait for Harry to return to the Tower after his meeting with the Headmaster.  He went up to the boys’ dormitory to pen a letter to his Gran, but broke his quill halfway through and had to dig through his trunk for another.

Nestled in the bottom of his truck, wrapped in soft cloth, were three leather-bound photo albums filled with pictures of Neville’s parents.  Neville went completely still for a moment.  His parents were a sore subject for him, a wound that had already been agitated from his morning conversation with Harry by the lake.  Still, he touched one, hesitant and considering, before he pulled two of the three albums out.  One was dedicated to his mother –pictures from her childhood and Hogwarts years– and the other was shared between his parents and encompassed the time since they were wed, peppered with pictures of himself as a baby.

Neville sat down on his bed cross-legged and started flipping through the first one.  At first, it was just pictures of Alice Longbottom, born Alice Smith, as a toddler and young child, but eventually pictures of her at Hogwarts started to make their way in amongst the rest.  Neville paused on a picture from his mother’s first year at Hogwarts, of her with the other girls from her dorm: Mary McDonald, Charity Burbage, Pandora Prosper, and Lily Evans.

Neville knew that Harry had a photo album with pictures of the Potters, but it was a very thin book.  With most of James Potter’s friends and family gone, Lily Potter’s best friend in a permanent ward for spell damage, and her family muggles, it was no wonder that Hagrid would have had difficulty locating pictures.  While Alice was the focus of the pictures in Neville’s books, he was sure that Harry would still be thrilled to see them.  The longer Neville flipped through the album, discovering more and more pictures of his mother and her best friend while they were still young, the more he was sure they would be just as precious to Harry as they were to him.  He resolved to show them to Harry at the earliest opportunity.

 

 

When Albus asked Minerva to bring Harry to his office after dinner, she gave him a hard look and asked if he was going to inform Harry’s guardian of their meeting.

“I sent him a note,” Albus assured her.

Minerva, frankly, did not appear convinced.  “Well, I suppose even if Harry’s guardian _doesn’t_ attend this meeting, there always be another witness to your meetings with him.  Miss Bellerose attends Harry everywhere, after all.”

Albus glowered at the reminder of Harry’s unnecessary bodyguard.  Aurora Bellerose had applied several times to be a professor at Hogwarts, but she was a willful individual and Harry didn’t need that kind of influence.  While Minerva left him alone to fetch Harry, Albus did his best to gather himself and contemplate what he was going to say.

The last time he’d spoken directly to Harry had been just after the boy had rescued Ginny Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets.  He’d been frightened, small, and looking for reassurances.  He must have shown enormous loyalty in the Chamber to call Fawkes to his side.  Albus needed to remind him of that loyalty.

Harry knocked on his office door, and Albus quickly sat and situated himself behind his desk.  He picked up a quill and a spare list to appear busy, and called for the boy to enter.

“You wanted to see me, Headmaster?”  Harry stepped into the office.  Miss. Bellerose came into the room immediately after him, her eyes sweeping the office quickly.  Albus chose to ignore her and refuse to be insulted, though, really.  It wasn’t as if Harry was in any danger in Albus’ company.

“Harry, my boy!” Albus greeted him warmly. “Yes, come in.  Please, sit.”

Harry took the seat closest to Fawkes’ perch, the same one he’d favored last year.  Fawkes made a soft sound when Harry stroked his chest and Harry smiled fondly at the bird.  It was such a relieving sight, and Albus allowed himself to relax.

“I just wanted to check on you.  See how you were doing.  Madam Pomfrey assured me that you are in good health, for all that you worried us this past summer.” It was a reprimand, but a mild one.  “I will admit that I feared the worst when I felt the wards fail at your aunt and uncle’s home and went to investigate.”

“Really?  I wasn’t aware that anyone was monitoring the wards at Privet Drive.”

“Of course I was, Harry. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“What kind of monitoring wards did you have in place?”

Albus frowned.  Harry’s focus seemed to be largely on Fawkes still, but his question was almost accusing.  “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Harry dragged his eyes from Fawkes and focused for the first time on the Headmaster.  Albus’ stomach tightened.  Harry’s eyes were bright with anger, and he looked frighteningly like his mother.  Albus had really only seen Lily _truly_ angry once, the night that Albus had told the Potters and the Longbottoms about the prophecy.

“If you were so concerned with my safety, Headmaster, what monitoring wards did you have in place?  They couldn’t have been monitoring how much or how often I was fed, because I was often fed less than a meal a day.  They couldn’t have been monitoring my physical health, or you would have been alerted every time my uncle struck me or my cousin bullied me.  Or perhaps they were in place and you just _ignored_ them.”

Albus’ mouth dropped open before he could help himself.  “Harry, I’m not sure what Merlin has told you–”

“He told me that you could have been _properly_ monitoring the wards, and that if you had been than I wouldn’t have spent twelve years being physically, mentally, and emotionally abused by my relatives, not to mention starved and treated like the muggle version of a house elf.” Harry cut in sharply.  “Do you know how many spells Merlin and Aurora have on me _right now_ to monitor my well-being? And you didn’t even bother with a few _wards_.”

Albus sat back in his chair.  What had happened to the boy that had sat in his office last year?

“Where did you spend your summer, Harry?”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business, Headmaster.”

“I’m not sure if you are aware of this, or how our legal system works, but I am the Chief Warlock and, if I wish, I could challenge Merlin’s guardianship of you.”

Aurora Bellerose put her hand on Harry’s shoulder and pointed her wand at Albus.  “I trust you aren’t that stupid.”

“And you can’t, anyway.” Harry said.  Albus started to argue, but Harry shook his head.  “Seriously, you can’t.  Merlin has been sheltering the line of Arthur Pendragon for more than a millennium and serving as the Pendragon Regent since Arthur’s death.  No one, not the Ministry, not the goblins, and certainly not you, Headmaster, has the right to challenge his guardianship over the last surviving magical descendant of Arthur Pendragon.”

“Harry, I realize the situation was not ideal, but living with your aunt provided you with the best protection I could offer, a protection that your mother herself was responsible for.  The destruction of the wards is a great loss, as they took the very last remnants of your mother’s magic with them.”

“That’s actually not true.  My mother’s magic continues within me.  I carry Family Magic from more than just my father’s line, after all.  Moreover, Merlin didn’t destroy the wards.  He harvested them.” Harry reached beneath his collar and pulled out a large, circular pendant that bore the image of Lily Potter upon it.  “I now carry them wherever I go.  Since they’re so imbued with my mother’s magic, they actually carry an _impression_ of her… similar to the impression a person leaves behind in a magical portrait.”

White light flowed out of the pendant like water and formed into the shimmering image of Lily Potter.  She brandished a finger at Albus. “You better live as long of life as you can manage, Albus Dumbledore, because when I get my hands on you, I’m going to make you suffer for all _eternity_.”

In a flash of light so bright it was blinding, she disappeared back into the amulet and Harry tucked it back beneath his robes.  He was particularly bright-eyed as he stood, running his fingers through Fawkes’ feathers once again.

“In the future, Headmaster, it would be wise for you to ensure my guardian is aware of any _meeting_ you’d like to have with me, rather than having Fawkes deliver a letter to his quarters after you know very well he’s left for the day.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, Hermione is waiting for me.  I’ve already had a rather trying day, and would rather not make her worry any more than I need to.”

Despite what he’d said to the Headmaster, Harry doesn’t head towards the Library to meet with Hermione, or to Gryffindor Tower.  He turned sharply down a mostly abandoned corridor, stomped up a narrow staircase, and walked straight into Merlin’s quarters without knocking.  Aurora, who had remained silent for the entire trip from the Headmaster’s Office, let him go in alone.

Merlin was sitting at his desk and going over lesson plans.  He took one look at Harry’s thunderous expression and frowned deeply.  His quarters were already warded heavily to keep the Headmaster from spying on him, but he cast another spell to lock the door and keep them from being interrupted all the same.

 “What’s wrong?” Merlin asked.

Wordlessly, Harry reached over and plucked up a rolled up piece of parchment from Merlin’s desk, one that had been buried under several books and other bits of parchment, and handed it over.  It was a note from Dumbledore, informing Merlin that he would be calling Harry in for a meeting and that Merlin was, of course, welcome to be there as Harry’s guardian.  Merlin sighed and cast the parchment into the trash.

“What did he have to say?”

“My mum came out of the amulet.”

Merlin exhaled sharply. “Wow. Okay, so that was unexpected.”

“Did you know she could do that?”

“I’ve told you before that the wards carried a very strong impression of your mother.  I thought if they were capable of manifesting her form physically that they would have done so before, when you were a child, to protect you.  Perhaps they are less taxed now than they were before, and capable of more.”

“Why hasn’t she done that before then? When you gave me the amulet or-”

“Harry,” Merlin interrupts gently. “You _must_ remember that the wards might be heavily influenced by your mother’s magic, and carry a strong impression of her, but they _are not_ your mother.  They were not designed to interact with you directly, but to keep you safe.”

Harry wasn’t sure Merlin really understood.  The figure that had come out of the amulet, for all that it had been made of light and magic, had looked _solid_.  She’d seemed so _real,_ exactly as she had appeared in the Mirror of Erised two years ago.  He couldn’t make out her red hair or green eyes, but the curve of her mouth was familiar, the sound of her _voice_ resonated through Harry and stirred something, memories he couldn’t quite grasp.  She was more than just a ward, he was sure of it even if Merlin was not.

His fist clenched around the amulet once again, as he squeezed his eyes shut against an onslaught of tears.  Warmth flooded through his hand and then all around him.  He opened his eyes to find the form of Lily Potter embracing him.

“You presume wrong, Merlin.” She said.  Her focus was entirely on her son, for all that she was addressing Merlin.  “Has it really been so long that you, of all people, would forget and underestimate the magical power of a mother’s love?”

Merlin could only gape, his mouth dropped open.  He was completely speechless; everything he knew about life and magic told him that what he was seeing was impossible, and yet the evidence was before his very eyes.  Lily Potter’s voice had a slightly hollow, echoing quality to it that Merlin associated with ghosts, but she was solid enough to hold Harry in her arms and run her fingers through his hair.

“Mum.” Harry whispered, his voice a wreck that tore at Merlin’s heart.  He sounded very much like a lost little boy rather than the teenager he was.

“Yes, Harry. Hush, I’m here. I will protect you, as I always have.  I’m sorry that I could not do more, before.  It was… difficult, in that place. It took so much of my power to keep you healthy and strong, and hidden from those that would do you harm.  I had no more of myself left to keep you company, as well.  But, you won’t be alone again, my beautiful boy.  My sweet, beautiful boy.”

She pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead and he could suddenly remember her. The smell of her favorite perfume, the sound of her voice as she sang him to sleep, her laughter as it rang through the house, it all rushed through him in one overwhelming swell of her love.  When she pulled away, the intensity faded but the memories remained.

“I will be with you always, to protect you and guide you.  You have a great destiny ahead of you, Harry.  It will be a long road, one that is at times painful and difficult, but you will never have to walk it alone.”

Harry clung to his mother’s magical form and cried.

 

 

Harry was gone for hours, long enough for Neville to move back down to the Common Room and nearly complete his first essay by the fire.  When Harry finally made his reappearance, it was late and after curfew.  Hermione had returned from the library, and already excused herself to bed.  Neville had thought about it himself, but had been determined to keep awake long enough to see Harry safely return to the dormitory.  It was late enough that Neville and a few sixth and seventh years were the only ones left in the common room, so it was just Neville there to see Harry return, pale faced and red-eyed.  He had one hand fisted around an amulet that Neville’s never seen (or at least noticed) him wearing before, and he looked exhausted.

Neville hesitated before asking, “Okay, there, Harry?”

Harry nodded.  “Yes.”  He sounded far-away and didn’t look at Neville when he answered.  He wasn’t acting like himself at all, and Neville shifted a bit closer.

“I… I have some pictures of my mum from when she was in Hogwarts.  There’s some of your mum in there, too. Would you like to see?”

Harry’s eyes jerked around to meet Neville’s, and his hand twisted around the amulet, his grip tightening.  Neville could see his fingertips and knuckles turning white from the force of it.  “Yes. Yes, please.”

Neville ran briefly up to the third-year dormitory, and grabbed the two albums.  He returned down to the common room, and let Harry lead the way into Harry’s new quarters.  They were nice.  Harry’s bed was fashioned just like the other dormitory beds, complete with thick curtain hangings, and the room was otherwise only occupied by a desk, Harry’s trunk, and a small elf-bed and wardrobe that was occupied by a house elf Neville didn’t know. 

“Oh, Dobby this is Neville.  Neville, this is Dobby.  I, er.” Harry paused and then laughed.  It made Neville’s shoulders relax.  He wasn’t sure what had happened to Harry while he was with the Headmaster, but it was reassuring to hear him laugh.  “I brought Dobby into my Family, so he’s more than just a servant to the House of Potter, he’s a _member_ of the House of Potter.”

Neville had never heard of an elf being brought into a Family before, but it was just the sort of thing Harry would do.  Neville knelt down so he could look at Dobby straight on and held out a hand.

“As the godson of Lily Potter, it is an honor to meet someone of my House.”

Dobby’s ears flapped with excitement, but he was solemn and respectful when he shook Neville’s hand.  “An honor,” he echoed.  “Dobby never thought he be meeting another wizard like Harry.  You be _good_ wizard.”

Neville flushed and scratched his head. “I don’t know about that.”

“Dobby fetch tea.” Dobby announced and then disappeared.

Harry laughed. “He does that when he gets… overwhelmed.  He’s not used to being treated like… like a person, I guess.  So he runs away.  Did you want to sit down? Only, there’s just the bed.”

“The bed is fine.” Neville agreed.  They both settled onto the bed, with their backs pressed against the stone wall behind them.  Neville unfolded his mother’s album.  It was large enough to easily fit across both their laps.

 “Prefects used to take pictures of the Sorting,” Neville explained, “To send to the parents back home, you know?  I don’t know why they don’t anymore.  Here’s my mum being Sorted into Gryffindor, and then this is the first picture taken of the Gryffindor class of ‘78.”

The picture was of a group of first years, clustered at the end of the Gryffindor table.  With the exception of one boy, they were all beaming and happy, some looking nervous and others relieved but happy.  Lily Evans was situated between Charity Burbage and Pandora Prosper, with Remus Lupin across from her.  Alice Smith was between Remus Lupin and a dark haired boy that was crying.  Neville knew that the boy was Sirius Black.  His grandmother used to spit his name out like venom.  “That man there, Neville, is the reason Lily and James Potter are dead. He betrayed us all, the miserable miscreant.  Always knew he was bad blood, all the Blacks are.”  Neville had always felt sorry for the boy, who was hunched in on himself and looking so utterly miserable, perched at the very end of the table and being ignored by everyone else.

“There’s my mum… and my dad.” Harry said, his voice quiet and reverent.

“Do you know the others?”

Harry shakes his head. “No.  All the pictures I have are later… some of their wedding, and from before they went into hiding.  No one’s ever told me.”

“Well, that’s my mum.  She was born Alice Smith and the first in the Smith family to not be Sorted into Hufflepuff in almost a hundred years.  From what I’ve been told, Mum was shy and quiet and kept to herself.  She rarely talked to anyone outside of Gryffindor.  She and my dad started dating when she was in her fifth year, Dad in his sixth.  They were betrothed before Dad left Hogwarts.  Let’s see… You’ve met Professor Lupin.  This here is Professor Burbage, she took over Muggle Studies after Quirrell got possessed or whatever and switched to Defense.  I have tea with her once a month.  You could come with, if you want? She has lots of stories.”

“I’d like that.”  Harry smiled.  Neville beamed back, glad to see Harry’s mood lifting.  “Who’s this?”

“Mary McDonald.  She left Hogwarts in sixth year and transferred to Beauxbatons, the French school.  Gran says a Slytherin hurt her, but wouldn’t discuss the details.  This is Pandora Prosper.  She was a brilliant witch, but she died just a few months before I came to Hogwarts.  Gran thought her husband was barmy, but would take me to play with her daughter Luna.  She’s a second year, but in Ravenclaw.”

Neville turns the page.  “This is from the summer after first year. My mum’s birthday is in the summer, and she had a great big party…”

They sat for hours, slowly turning through the pages.  Neville shared every small tidbit of information and hazy story he could remember.   Harry relaxed, and his smiles came more often and looked more natural.  Neville reminded himself to ask his Gran to make copies of all the pictures with Lily Evans in them.  Harry deserved to have more of his mum.

Harry fell asleep first, slumping over with his face against Neville’s shoulder.  Neville considered moving, but he was comfortable.  The amulet around Harry’s neck was glowing ever-so-slightly and he felt warm and safe.  He stole Harry’s pillow and shoved it behind his head, and then closed his eyes and let himself relax.

He was pretty sure he heard a woman singing to them right before he fell asleep, but rationalized the next morning that it must have been something he dreamed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes:
> 
> 1) Regarding Susan Bones: In canon, nothing about Susan Bones is actually known. Most assume that she is a ward of her aunt Amelia, but this isn't supported in canon. Amelia's brother Edgar was murdered, but it specifically states in the books that Edgar's wife and ALL of his children were killed. The wikia assumes that Susan's father was another, unnamed brother. I named him Anthony and his backstory will eventually be revealed, along with Susan's, as more of Neville's story comes out.
> 
> 2) I decided to give Alice the maiden-name of Smith. Zacharias Smith is Neville's first cousin. That doesn't directly affect the story in any way, but for anyone that is curious, there you go.
> 
> Now, in other news, I will be participating in NaNoWriMo so there will not be an update in November. I will try to post on this fic at least once a month starting in December. My NaNo project is also in the Harry Potter fandom, so there is that to (eventually) look forward to. I'm hoping to have something to post ready in November, but that's a big maybe and if I don't finish it before the end of the month it'll have to be postponed until December.
> 
> Thanks for being patient with me! I hope you enjoyed the update.

**Author's Note:**

> I will be editing the tags and character list as this story progresses.
> 
> This story is and will remain GEN. Harry will have NO romance. This story is ultimately about Harry coming into his own person, so all of his relationships will be platonic.


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